


One In A Million

by ALMartin1011



Series: One In A Million [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s setting, F/M, Female reader insert, Light Angst in later chapters, M/M, Polyamory, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Reader-Insert, SHIELD Agent Reader, Stucky - Freeform, Time Travel, and so much sweet fluff, but those boys are just too perfect, it's an alias but still basically your new name, lots of feels, modern girl in the past, named reader insert, she had literally one job, smut in later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALMartin1011/pseuds/ALMartin1011
Summary: After volunteering as test subject one for Project Traveler, you go back to the year 1941 where your only mission is to keep the timeline intact and get back to your jump point to return home. Of course nothing is ever that simple and despite your best efforts you find yourself becoming entangled in the lives of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes in ways you could have never imagined. As the time until your jump point dwindles down you’re left with an impossible choice; do you follow the mission and go back to present day, or follow your heart and risk everything for love?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: One In A Million [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900087
Comments: 32
Kudos: 125





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies! Who’s ready to get this started!? I’ve been sitting on this fic a while now and I finally feel like it’s ready to be out in the world. I’m so excited to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy! XOXO - Ash

“Send me.” you offer, causing the room full of scientists and PhD’s to turn and stare at you. “I mean it.” you continue, “You guys need someone you can trust who knows the science behind this if it goes wrong. The only one who will miss me is my cactus.” 

Chelton, the head of SHIELD’s Traveler project, looks at you thoughtfully. You’re young, still working towards your PhD after completing your masters a few years ago. It’s hard for him to believe you have nothing tying you to the world, but thinking back he can’t remember you ever talking about family or friends or anything personal. He assumed you were just taciturn by nature but he realizes now it was more than that. “You realize this is test number one?” he asks you, “We’re pretty sure it’s ready to go but if we’re wrong....”

You waive him off, “I know, I know. Death, dismemberment, permanent brain damage, yada, yada, yada. I’ve watched you guys work on this for two years now, it’s as ready as it’s ever gonna be. And someone needs to be the guinea pig, so it might as well be me. I’m still learning, if you lose me there’s still enough brains to keep things going and try again. If we lose one of you the project could end permanently.” You know it’s calloused but you made up your mind as soon as you had seen them putting the finishing touches on the transporter a week ago. 

“Don’t discredit yourself, Y/N.” Chelton admonishes, “You're a valued member of this team. I want you to take the weekend and really think about this. Make preparations if you’re still serious after thinking it over. When you come in on Monday if you’ve changed your mind, no one will think any less of you.” 

You give him a soft smile, knowing you need to assuage his concern, “Okay, thanks Chelton. I’ll think about it. Now, who’s ready to get out of here?” You pick up your files, ready to pack up for the day. It’s been a long week and you’re suddenly eager to get home, this will be your last weekend in the twenty-first century for a while. 

Your apartment is a small studio over top a corner shop and it’s just big enough that you’re not constantly bumping into your furniture. Definitely an upgrade from the shoe box you lived in at college with two roommates. When you had moved to the city to work on the project recreating Tony Stark’s time machine it felt like a luxury just to have a place of your own. You water the little cactus who sits on the window sill in your living room, and settle in with your laptop to pay a few bills online. If things go as planned and you come back, it will be important to still have a roof over your head. 

Your evenings are quiet with none of your friends living in the city. You email a few of them to let them know you’ll be away on a work trip and that you miss them. The picture of your parents sitting on the bookshelf makes your heart ache for a moment. You wonder if they would be proud of you if they were still alive. They’ve been gone for a decade now but it doesn’t do much to dull the pain of their loss. 

Your stomach rumbles, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast. Normally you’d just scrounge up something from your cupboards, whatever you had leftover from earlier in the week. But a sense of fatalism hits and you realize that if you don’t make it back in one piece on Monday it doesn’t really matter if you blow a day's worth of pay on a five star restaurant or not. And you have been dying to go to Peter Luger Steak House since you moved to Brooklyn. You put on your nicest looking dress, dark blue silk that accents your curves without making you look lumpy, and throw on a little make up for the hell of it. This might be your last weekend alive and you’re going to make the most of it.

xxXxx

Monday comes far too quickly and you’re a little ashamed to admit you’re not feeling your best. You’ve decided it’s easier to accept the idea that you’re not walking away from the test run so that you’re not devastated if and when something goes awry. You spent the entire weekend doing all the things you usually put off for more practical endeavors. The queue on your Hulu and Netflix accounts are clear and you’ve eaten a lifetime of fancy foods. You also learned what good, twenty year old scotch tastes like and it was worth every cent. You probably didn’t need to finish off the whole bottle over the course of three days though. 

You drop your bag into your bottom desk drawer and hand Chelton an envelope when he comes over to greet you. “This is everything,” you tell him, “Passwords, account information, a list of people to contact. If things go sideways I know I can trust you to take care of things for me.”

The older man accepts the envelope but pulls you in for a brisk, uncharacteristic hug. “I’m so proud of you.” he says roughly. 

“Oh come on, pull it together old man.” you tease, “I’ll be back in all of a minute if we’ve done our jobs right.” 

“That’s right, and you’ll have some wild stories for us I’m sure.” 

You join the rest of the research group, letting them know test number one for project Traveler is a go. The room erupts into happy chaos, everyone working at their stations getting the machine up and running. You run through the processes, double checking it for full functionality, and for the first time you start to feel genuine excitement that you might actually be about to go back in time. 

Harris, one of the other original scientists on the project, gives you a run down for a second time, as if you didn’t assist with creating the protocols yourself. “You will have three jump points back to our time once you get there. One month, six months, one year. If for whatever reason you can’t get back on the first jump you still have two more shots to find your way back to us. You have to set up these three devices in the basement of the Strategic Scientific Reserve headquarters when you arrive to keep the link open for the jump points. You cannot lose this brooch or you’ll have nothing to pull you through. When you get there write down the exact time and date so you can ensure you’re at the jump points in time, it’ll be down to the second so be sure you do that first thing.” 

“I know. I’ll be just fine.” you assure him while straightening out the neckline of your smart looking dove grey suit. The team had rustled up a vintage suit for you so that you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb when you got back to 1940. You fasten the antique looking brooch to the breast of it, knowing you’ll need to carry it on you always to ensure you have a way back. The team had decided against wristbands due to how obvious they would be in another time period and had settled on a tie tack or a brooch depending if it were a man or woman going back. 

Harris nodded but carried on, “When you get there ask for Agent Wilson right away. Show him this card and he’ll get you access to one of the SSR aliases and bank accounts. You’ll be set up for as long as you need to be there. But remember, if you make any drastic changes to the past you’ll be forming a split in realities and creating a new timeline. We don’t know what kind of effects that could have. You need to stay under the radar and keep your head down.” 

“Will do. It’ll be okay. I’ll be back in a minute, maybe six if I’m having a good time. You just worry about where you’re taking us all for dinner to celebrate tonight.” 

Harris nods and lets you past him to take your place on the transporter. It’s been five years of tireless work for most of the people in the room trying to recreate and improve upon the machine Tony Stark and Bruce Banner used to send the Avengers back for the infinity stones. You learned so much in the past two years since you joined them. It was the opportunity of a lifetime and you are so grateful to have been given it.

“Okay guys, this is it. Nobody better eat my yogurt in the fridge before I get back.” you say with a wry smile, getting into position in the middle of the machine. 

A few of the guys chuckle while they begin flipping switches on the control panel, readying the transporter.

Chelton returns your smile despite deep worry lines creasing at the side of his eyes, “We’ll see you in a minute.” he says and then he presses the final set of command keys.

You don’t close your eyes, not willing to miss a moment if they’re your last. Everyone’s faces are broadcasting varying mixes of fear, excitement, and hope as you look around your team. It starts out slow, a faint tingling of the hairs on your arms. Like you had rubbed a balloon along them and static electricity had built up. The tingling increases until your whole body is thrumming with a buzzing energy and then the world goes white.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose navigates her first few hours in 1941 and makes an unexpected discovery in an alley way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! We’re back in 1941 now and the plot set up is rolling! I did a lot of research on the 1940′s when I was writing this fic because I wanted it to be as authentic as possible. So I hope that comes through as the fic progresses. Also, can anyone guess who Rose stumbles across in an alley? Hehe... I just can’t image who... XOXO - Ash

Your eyes struggle to adjust in darkness after the blinding light and you hope for a minute that you didn’t blow the electricity in the lab. The faint smell of dampness and dust gives you hope though. You take a tentative step forward and collide with a piece of furniture, a desk you realize as you run your hands along it. You fumble around finding a lamp and switching it on, thankful for the gentle illumination. The basement is filled with shelves of boxes and two desks. The manila envelope on the desk bears the SSR logo and you realize you’ve actually done it. You check the watch in your pocket and mark down the time on your notepad, subtracting ten seconds for your fumbling around. The devices to set up are barely visible tacks which you quickly place in spots not easily seen. Now you just need the date and to find Agent Wilson. 

The first floor of the SSR office is buzzing with people. It’s four thirty and everyone is scrambling to finish their work before the office closes at five. The late day sun shines through the large glass windows that line the far side of the room and you feel like you’ve stepped onto a movie set. The room around you feels surreal, even as it dawns on you that you’ve done it. You actually time traveled. 

“Can I help you, ma’am?” a young man in a pale blue suit asks you. 

“Yes, have you seen Agent Wilson around?” you ask, hoping your search for him doesn’t take too long. You have a few bills in your pocket just in case you don’t find him right away but not enough to get by for more than a week on. 

The man nods and points back to a closed wooden office door, “He just got back this morning, should still be in his office.” 

You thank the man and weave your way through the room to the office. Knocking twice firmly, you wait until a gruff voice calls out, “Come in.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and open the door. 

Agent Wilson is a tall older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a lithe build accentuated by his neatly tailored suit. He’s hunched behind his desk, squinting at a file and only looks up once you’re right in front of his desk. “How can I help you, Ms….?”

You extend your hand politely but shake your head, “I was told to give you this.” you tell him and hand over the card. 

Wilson appraises you for a moment with a quirked brow, “I haven’t had any Sparrows show up here in quite some time.” 

You nod but don’t give him any further information.

“We’ll get you set up then. I’m assuming you need a permanent placement?” 

You nod again, “Yes, please.”

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right back.” 

“Thank you.” you call after him. The heavy door swings shut and you’re left sitting in the quiet office. 

True to his word, Wilson returns less than five minutes later with a file in hand. It had been just enough time for you to locate his day calendar and write down the date, November 6th, 1941. You’ll have to make a few adjustments to narrow down the window of time for jumps when you get back. You’re about eighteen months off of the intended target date. “You’re all set Miss Miller.” 

You look down to the file and see your new name for the first time. “Please, Agent Wilson, call me Rose.” 

Wilson chuckles and returns your cheeky smile. “Your apartment is four blocks from here. You’ll have all weekend to settle in and then you’re due in at 8am on Monday for work. I trust you have some skills that we can utilize here at SSR?” 

“I’m great with data entry.” you offer, knowing a lifetime of using computers will put you at a distinct advantage. 

“Excellent. Talk to Marge when you get in and we’ll find something for you.” 

“Thank you.” you say earnestly, so grateful that the plans you laid in place are going smoothly.

“Of course, Rose.” He gives you a kind, sympathetic smile, “We’ll see you Monday.”

You nod and bid him goodbye, leaving the SSR office and heading out into the brisk November air. The streets are busy with people heading home for the weekend and you find it easy to lose yourself in the crowd. The accents around you sound thicker, more authentically Brooklyn if that’s possible, and the clothes people are wearing in varying pastels and neutrals are fascinating in how different they are from what you expected. You’ll have to go shopping over the weekend and get a few things. First things first though, you need a winter coat and to find your bank to withdraw some money. 

You trade a dime for a cup of hot coffee and a Hershey’s bar from a news stand and realize the twenty dollars in your pocket will go a bit further than you had expected. You’re strolling down a block of shops looking in the windows trying to find one that sells coats when you hear a scuffle coming from an alleyway. You hurry over to see a broad shouldered man looming over what looks like a boy, pummeling him and tearing at the worn leather bag he’s clinging to. You know you should keep moving, it’s not a lady’s place in this time and you don’t want to risk causing a scene or getting yourself seriously injured. But you never did follow rules very well. “Hey!” you yell down the alley as you stalk towards the man with more confidence than you feel. “Knock it off you asshole!”

The man whips around, fury plain on his face, “You got quite a mouth on you, girlie.” 

“Yeah and I got quite a fist too. You wanna stop beating up kids and try your luck with a woman instead?” you glare, challenging him.

“How about I teach you some manners instead?” The man comes towards you with a slow predatory gait and you breathe through the fear rising up in your throat, remembering your self defense training. The man’s hand reaches out to grab your hair and you use your speed and momentum to twist his hand back sharply and force him down to his knees, howling in pain. 

“What the fuck lady?” the man screams, clutching his wrist. He stares at you for a moment before hurrying out of the alley, still holding his injured hand close. 

“You okay?” you ask, turning around to check on the boy who was being attacked. He pushes his flop of golden blonde hair back from his face and you realize he’s not a boy at all. “Oh shit.” you murmur. 

“I had him on the ropes.” Steve Rogers tells you as he pulls himself up from the dirty asphalt. 

“Well, I apologize for intervening then. I’ll just leave you be.” 

He’s bleeding and unsteady on his feet and you want to help him but you can’t risk altering timelines. Of all the alleys in Brooklyn, you had to stumble across Steve freaking Rogers himself. You curse yourself mentally as you go to leave, stopping only when you hear Steve call out “Wait!” 

You turn back, unable to refuse the plea in his deep, smooth voice. 

“I should be the one apologizing, not you. I appreciate you stopping. No one else ever does.” he tells you while wiping the blood off his hand onto his threadbare jacket. He extends the cleaned hand towards you, “Steve Rogers.” 

“Rose Miller.” you tell him and shake his hand briefly. 

“Thank you, Rose. That was quite the trick you pulled on Jimmy.”

“Oh it was nothing, really. I should be going.” you force yourself to turn away from those piercing blue eyes and head towards the opening of the alley. You’re less than a dozen steps away from freedom when a dark haired man comes barreling into the alley almost knocking you over. He looks terrified and runs over to Steve, assessing his cuts and bruises while tutting like a mother hen. “Jesus, Stevie. I saw Jimmy going past and I thought he’d finally done you in. He was furious.” 

“I’m fine, Buck.” Steve says pushing him off, “There was an angel nearby who intervened.” 

Bucky looks over at you, studying you for the first time and you’re frozen in place. You should be running away as fast as your legs can carry you, going back to following through on your mission and not making any more waves in the past than you already have. But Bucky gives you the most charming smile you’ve ever been on the receiving end of and you know you’re a goner. 

“I didn’t know we had any angels left in Brooklyn.” he says smoothly, taking a few steps forward to shake your hand. “James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” he winks at the last bit and you are pretty sure your ovaries have exploded. You had seen footage of the illustrious super soldiers before but nothing could ever compare to being on the receiving end of Bucky Barnes’ flirtations. 

“Rose Miller” you tell him, shaking his hand firmly. The new name flows with ease the more you use it and you find you actually like it. 

“Thanks for saving my buddy here. He forgets he’s all bark and no bite sometimes.” 

Steve huffs and shoves at Bucky, “I’ll bite you, jerk.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m real afraid.” Bucky shoves him back but then tucks him under his arm affectionately. They share a long look and you wonder for a second if there really was any truth to the speculation that the pair were more than just best friends. “So what can I do to thank you for saving my friend?” Bucky asks you.

You shake your head, you need to stop this before it gets out of hand. “Nothing, really. I’ll just be on my way.” your shiver despite yourself and both men pick up on it immediately. 

“Well least I can do is lend you a warm coat.” Bucky shucks off his dark wool coat and drapes it over your shoulders. It smells like man and sea, an oddly exhilarating mix. “Now, what do you say to dinner? Our place is only a block over and I’m sure Stevie has something delicious planned.” 

“I put ham, potatoes, and green beans on the stove this morning to simmer. It should be done about now.” Steve tells you quietly. 

“What do you say, doll? That’s one of Steve’s specialties; best dinner in the city by a mile.” 

They both look so hopeful it tugs on your heart strings. You are a modern, twenty first century woman, you remind yourself. You have a masters degree and are halfway to a doctorate. You don’t fawn over men like a teenage girl. You have more self restraint than this. “Sounds great.” you find yourself saying. 

Both men break into blindingly bright smiles and Bucky throws his free arm around your shoulders, leading you down the street with them. So much for self restraint. 

Bucky and Steve’s home is a quaint two bedroom apartment over top of a garage. It’s chilly but Bucky is quick to throw on the heat once you’re inside. “Make yourself at home.” he tells you and Steve retreats quietly to the kitchen to check on dinner. Bucky reemerges a few minutes later having changed out of his worn work clothes into a simple button up shirt and slacks. His hair is shiny and slicked back and you’re once again stunned by how much more attractive he is in person. You set down the sketch you were looking at, a little embarrassed to have been caught looking around. “This is beautiful.” you say, motioning to the rough outline of a city skyline. 

Bucky crosses the room to see what you were looking at, “Oh yeah, Stevie did this one last week. He’s talented, that’s for sure.” 

“Talking about me?” Steve asks, poking his head out of the kitchen.

“Rose here was just admiring one of your drawings. I was telling her how you’re gonna be a famous artist pretty soon and we’ll be living all the way uptown and going to fancy parties at the MET.” 

Steve rolls his eyes and retreats back into the kitchen. 

“He really is brilliant.” Bucky insists, “He just needs to catch a break instead of a cold for once.” 

“You’re a good friend.” you say with a warm smile. It’s hard not to get swept up in his charm. 

Steve pokes his head out again announcing it’s time for dinner and Bucky leads you to their table which is sitting at the far end of the kitchen with two chairs and a stack of crates around it. “We don’t have company much.” Steve explains motioning at the stack of crates. 

“It’s okay.” you assure him, “Dinner smells wonderful.” 

“You two take a chair. I’m fine on the crates and I can serve.” Bucky busies himself dishing out the food and setting tall thin glasses of water by each place. 

You settle into your seat facing Steve across the table and take a moment to really study him. He’s all angles and pale skin with bright blue eyes shining out from beneath his mop of blonde hair. You knew he was short before the serum and had seen the pictures, but seeing him up close he isn’t quite as frail as they made him out to be. Sure, he looks like a strong wind could knock him over, but there is a quiet strength beneath his exterior. It’s no wonder that Erskine chose him for Project Rebirth. 

“Rose?” Steve prompts, breaking you from your thoughts.

You realize you’ve been caught staring, Steve is looking at you curiously while Bucky just smirks from his makeshift seat.

“Sorry, don’t know where my mind went for a minute.” you demure. 

Bucky huffs a suppressed chuckle and moves on, asking Steve how his day was. 

You learn Steve has been looking for work as an illustrator at various papers and magazines around the city. He works a few days a week at the neighborhood grocery store stocking shelves but they just don’t have enough hours for him anymore. He’d been out for a month with the flu last spring and the owner had hired more help to cover while he was sick. They let him come back but with half the hours he had before. Bucky caught a lucky break down at the docks around that time and picked up extra shifts, eventually earning himself a promotion over the summer. He wants Steve to pursue his art more and is willing to work 24/7 to make that happen if need be. His fierce devotion to Steve pursuing his dream is sweet but he brushes it off as nothing when you call him on. You give the guys vague details about your life when they ask. You try to stick to as much truth as you can but it’s difficult. You share that your parents died shortly after your eighteenth birthday and that you’re new to the city. You tell them you have a new apartment nearby and that you are starting a job on Monday at the SSR as a typist. 

The night wears on and you move from the dining room to the living room so you can listen to the radio with Steve. Bucky insists on cleaning up after dinner since Steve had cooked, brushing off his kindness as “only fair” when you compliment him. It’s blissfully easy spending time with the guys. They are obviously close but make an effort to make you feel included in whatever they’re talking about. There are also little signs that you would have missed if you hadn’t been studying them so intently. A shared knowing smile, the “accidental” brush of a hand, the way they orbit around each other closer than most people would be comfortable with. When you wander down the hall looking for the bathroom you notice only one of the bedrooms looks lived in and it doesn’t surprise you in the least. Oh, what the historians would say if they knew.

You’re headed back down the hall when you hear fierce whispering. You pause a few feet from the end of the hall, wanting to give them their privacy. The apartment is small though and you can hear everything.

“Ask her out, Stevie.” Bucky demands in a hushed voice.

“She’s more your speed, Buck. She’s stunning.” Steve whispers back.

“And she’s been makin’ eyes at you all night.”

“Come on, you know I don’t need anybody but you.”

“I know but one day you’re gonna have to settle down with somebody. Somebody you can take out to a movie without getting arrested. Do the whole wife, kids, and a desk job thing. You deserve a good life, Stevie.” 

“I have a good life now. And what about you, huh? What happens when I go off and settle down?”

“Then I’ll settle down too. Probably with one of your wife’s friends. We’ll still spend all the holidays together, get houses next door, vacation with each other every summer at the beach, our kids will grow up together.” Bucky says this with all the confidence he can muster. In reality, he thinks, Steve will go settle down with some wonderful woman and pop out a brood of perfect little blonde babies to whom he will be Uncle Bucky; eternally single and hanging around on holidays because he’s got nowhere else to go. Steve Rogers is it for him, he’s known that since he was fourteen and he doubts anything will ever change it. 

“You paint a nice picture, Buck. You left out a few things though.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” 

“How I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night without the sound of you snoring away next to me. How it would never really feel like Christmas without getting to watch you unwrap presents in your stupid ratty robe. How vacations would be unbearable having to do all the cheesy romantic tourist things with someone that isn’t you.” 

Bucky swallows past the lump in his throat. “You always were a maudlin little punk.” 

Steve knows he’s won and gives Bucky’s hand a quick squeeze. It’s an old argument but it doesn’t stop them from rehashing it from time to time. They both just want what’s best for each other.

You take that moment to rejoin them in the living room, making sure your clicking heels on the hardwood announces your arrival. The tips of Steve’s ears are tinged pink and both his and Bucky’s hands are stuffed into their pockets. They had jolted apart quickly when they heard you coming. 

“Well boys,” you tell them, “You sure know how to show a girl a good time but I’ve got to get going.” 

“We appreciate you joining us. Maybe you can stop by another time if you’re free?” Steve asks.

You know it’s a bad idea but your mouth is saying yes before your brain catches up.

Steve smiles broadly at your agreement, “Great. I know you’re close but it’s late. Let Bucky walk you home, okay?” 

Bucky nods, on board with the suggestion. “I can get my coat back once you’re home then. You don’t want my work coat stinkin’ up your nice apartment.” 

“Alright, thank you Bucky.” you agree, knowing it’s only proper in this time period. 

Bucky collects his coat and wraps it around your shoulders with practiced ease. 

Steve takes your hand for a moment before thinking better of it and dropping it. “Thank you.” he says softly, “For stopping today.” 

“I’m glad I could help.” you shoot him a small smile. 

Bucky motions to the door and you follow him out into the early November chill. 

You give Bucky your address and he leads the way. You’re thankful to not have to pretend to be familiar with the area. You’re only one block down and one block over from their place but the cold night air has you shivering even under Bucky’s coat. You mentally add a hat, gloves, and a scarf to the list of things you’ll need. “Thank you for walking me home.” you say from your apartment stoop. 

“Any time, doll. I’m real glad you helped Steve out today.” he drawls. 

“Of course. I couldn’t just walk past and do nothing.” 

“Most people do. You share that with him though.” 

“Share what?” you asked, confused.

“Not being able to stay out of it when you see something wrong going on.” he explains.

You smile at him, blushing a little despite yourself. “Guilty as charged.” you admit. 

“Come over and see us again sometime, okay doll? I know Stevie would appreciate the company. He’s a great guy and I think you two would really get along.”

It’s blatant what he’s trying to do and your heart melts a little at the devotion he has for his friend, even at his own expense. “I’ll come over again soon.” you assure him. 

You shrug off Bucky’s jacket, handing it back to him, and he bids you a goodnight as you close the apartment door behind you. Resting on the inside of the door for a moment you can’t decide if you want your words to him to be the truth or a lie. One thing is certain though; whether or not you go see them again you’re never going to forget those sweet Brooklyn boys.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose starts work at the SSR Headquarters and runs into Steve again despite her intention to avoid the guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Can you even imagine trying to adapt to life in the 1940′s? It would have to be wild. I like to think that Rose would be pretty much any modern girl trying to made do back then. We’d miss random things and forget ourselves from time to time. And if nothing else, I promise you, none of us would be able to resist Steve or Bucky in their prime lol. XOXO - Ash

You spend the next two days settling into your tiny apartment that sits looking out over a factory district street. It’s not glamorous but there are four other girls living in the building and it seems to be pretty safe from what they’ve told you. Your apartment is 2a and there is currently no one in 2b. Both first floor apartments are taken as well as both third floor ones. Macie who lives in 3a works at the SSR office too. She’s in the mail room there and you make plans to walk together on Monday. 

Despite the cold, you do a lot of walking over the weekend. It gives you a chance to get to know the area better and pick up the few things you’ll need to get by for the next twenty nine days. You mark the date and time of your jump point on your new wall calendar, wanting to be ready to go and not risk any mistakes that get you stuck back in time longer than you plan to be there. 

The apartment came fully furnished which is a blessing and a curse. The style is very feminine and the abundance of tiny flowers is a little overwhelming at times. You pick up a tiny window plant, missing your cactus back home for a moment when you pass a florist shop. It’s your only contribution to the apartment's decor. You can’t see wasting money on other things when you won’t be around for long. It’s not like you intend to host any guests in the next few weeks. The memory of dinner with Steve and Bucky comes to mind unbidden. It was so easy spending time with them, it’s a shame you’ll have to avoid them now. 

The nights are quiet in your apartment. You had always thought the constant connectivity of technology in the twenty-first century was a nuisance, but without it the silence of your apartment is deafening. You pick up a few books while you’re out shopping to help pass the time, and they do to an extent. It doesn’t stop you from wondering what Bucky and Steve are up to though. It’s frustrating that after only one evening in their company that they’ve left such an impression on you. You pour yourself into your books, playing cards over at Macie’s, and cleaning your apartment thoroughly. It’s enough to get you through to Monday when you know you’ll be able to distract yourself with work. 

Macie is full of life, chatting happily the entire way to the office on Monday morning. It’s nice not having to hold up your end of the conversation while you nibble at a piece of toast as you walk. The easily accessible food in the 40s is very plain, which you had expected, but it’s making you wish you had memorized a few recipes before you went back so that you could whip up a few more appetizing meals. You’re thankful money isn’t an issue while you’re there so you can “splurge” on things like sugar and coffee. You had passed on buying a cookbook but are starting to think it would have been a good investment. There’s no way you’re going to be living off of toast for breakfast all month. You wonder idly how difficult it would be to make a poptart from scratch. Probably harder than it’s worth but you’d give just about anything for a hot, toasty, s’mores poptart.

You get set up in the typing pool at the SSR after a brief tour around the office by Marge who manages all the data entry girls. There are thirteen of you, all crammed together in a string of desks on the second floor with typewriters at each of your stations. You quickly realize that while you had been lightning fast at typing on your laptop, a typewriter is quite a different beast. The biggest hiccup being the lack of a backspace key. You vow to never take that little rectangular button for granted again as you start on your eighth copy of the same notes. 

The afternoon is easier than the morning now that your brain has caught on to the lack of a backspace key and you’ve slowed down enough to ensure you don’t make mistakes. By five o’clock your shoulders ache from the angle of the desk and you miss your ergonomically designed workstation at the lab. 

You decline Macie’s offer to walk home with you in favor of going back to the bookstore to buy a cookbook. You can make a few dinners easily from memory but it would be a lot of guesswork for cooking times and measurements. Meat thermometers are apparently not a common thing yet and without Pinterest to help, you can’t remember how long to roast chicken breasts to ensure they’re done. Spending a few cents on a cookbook seems like a better option than food poisoning. You find a Better Homes and Gardens cookbook that reminds you of the one your mother had growing up and you buy it out of nostalgia as much as a fear of salmonella. 

You manage to whip up an easy dinner for yourself, half memory of your favorite herb combo and half instructions from your newly acquired book. With nothing but time on your hands, you plan out meals for the rest of the week and make a shopping list for everything you don’t have. The space in your icebox is limited but you’ll be able to make do since you’re only cooking for one. As you plan out your meals it dawns on you that your period is due later that week and you throw cocoa powder on your list. It might be an indulgence in the 40s but you’re making brownies no matter what. If you have to survive your period without Midol, you’re damn well not doing without chocolate.

The next night you pop into the grocery store on your way home, sore from another day hunched over a typewriter. Your aching shoulders have you dreading lugging bags of groceries home despite it only being two blocks. You’re debating over brands of cocoa powder when you hear the deep timber of a familiar voice. 

“Rose?” Steve calls out from the end of the aisle. 

You turn to see him holding a can of peaches, smiling broadly. So much for avoiding the guys. “Hey Steve.” you reply with a slightly forced smile. You should have known this would happen, Steve works at the grocers for heaven's sake. Stupid, so stupid. 

Steve places the can he’s holding on the stack and crosses the aisle to join you in front of the shelf. He lets out a low whistle at the cans of cocoa you’re holding, “Special event coming up?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Just felt like making brownies.” 

Steve shakes his head in disbelief. “That must be nice.”

You frown, realizing that’s out of place with the times.

Steve mistakes your frown and fumbles for an apology, “Sorry, that was rude.” 

“No,” you assure him, “It’s alright.” You wonder when the last time Steve and Bucky scraped up enough money for a treat was. It was mentioned in the archives how they had struggled to make ends meet due to all of Steve’s health issues.

“That must be some fancy job you got over at the SSR if you’re making brownies just because it’s Tuesday.” His tone is more playful and he has you smiling fully at him now.

“Family money.” you bluff, “But you know, I can’t eat a full pan of brownies by myself.” 

“That probably wouldn’t be a good idea, no.” 

“What time does your shift end?” you’re acting on impulse and you don’t care in the slightest at the moment.

“I’m done at six. But Rose, you don’t have to…”

“Bullsh-” you stop, censoring yourself. You’re in the 40s, women act like _ladies_ and watching your mouth has always been a struggle. “Nonsense.” you amend with a blush, “You and Bucky should come over when you get done. I’ll even make dinner.” 

Steve is still smirking from your slip up but he nods. “Alright. I’ll call Bucky and we’ll be over.” 

“Good” you say and you mean it. Seeing Steve again has you wanting to be a part of their world regardless of the danger it poses. It’s hard to know they struggle when you could help with your limitless SSR funds. It’s reckless, you know that, but when Steve smiles at you it doesn’t seem to matter. 

You part ways, letting him get back to stocking the shelf of peaches, and you collect the rest of your list plus a few things for a simple dinner. 

Steve and Bucky arrive at your apartment fifteen minutes after six. You didn’t expect them to get there so quickly and you’re still mixing up brownie batter and boiling water for pasta. You let them in and cringe as they look around your overly floral apartment. “It came furnished.” you explain while taking their coats. 

“Good to know.” Bucky chuckles, “You don’t really seem the type.”

You shoot him an inquisitive look. “And what type do you think I am, Barnes?” 

“You’re classier than this, that’s for sure. You’re feminine but tough. Like you’d be just as likely to make me brownies as you are to take on a guy twice your size to defend someone.” 

You can feel yourself blushing deeply and you can’t seem to keep yourself composed. “Oh you, _you charmer_.” Steadying yourself with a deep breath you swat at him with the towel you had tucked into your apron pocket. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and come help with dinner?” 

Bucky dodges your swat and points at you accusingly, “See, you’re just proving my point, doll. Sweet enough to make us dinner but sassy enough to make us help.” 

“Shut up and grab the bowl.” you motion to the counter top where your half mixed brownie batter sits. “Steve, can you please get an 8x8 pan out from the cabinet over there?”

“How come he gets a please and I get a shut up?” Bucky balks.

“Because Steve isn’t a pain in my ass.” you say in the most saccharine tone you can muster.

Steve snorts and Bucky feigns taking offense, but both men fall in line helping you. It’s fun cooking with the two of them despite how obnoxious their teasing can be. Barely twenty minutes later you’re dishing up large bowls of pasta and hunks of garlic bread. It’s a rich, heavy meal and you hope to send the leftovers home with the guys. It’s one small way you know you can quietly help make their lives a little better. 

“What is this?” Steve all but moans before stuffing a second bite of the pasta in his mouth.

A small campfire flares to life in your chest at his obvious enjoyment. “It’s called cacio e pepe. I used to make it a lot when I was in college. It’s so easy to make.” 

“Stevie, I’m sorry but you’re losing that best meal in Brooklyn award.” Bucky says, swallowing quickly. 

“I’m glad you guys like it.”

Bucky shakes his head, “Not like, **love**. What do you say, Rose? Let me make an honest woman out of ya. I would marry you tomorrow if it means I get to eat this again.” 

“I’d fight you for that, ya jerk.” Steve grumbles between bites. 

You wave your hand dismissively. “It’s like the two of you haven’t had a decent meal in your lives. How about I just keep the pair of you and I’ll make this as much as you want.” 

They look at you for a moment in quiet amazement before Bucky quips, “You were right, Stevie. She is an angel.” 

The banter continues as you eat your meals, topic hopping from work to weekend plans to childhood memories. Both men go back for second bowls of pasta and while Steve taps out halfway through Bucky is scraping his empty bowl again in no time.

“You do realize I have brownies in the oven.” you remind him as you clear the table. 

Bucky leans back in his chair, hands splayed on his stomach. “Oh I know, darlin’. But by the time those things are cool, I’ll be ready.” 

“I might not be.” Steve groans mildly. 

“That’s because that was the most you’ve eaten in a month, ya punk.” 

“You know my medicine messes with my appetite!” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you.” 

“Jerk.”

“Punk. I only worry because I care.” 

They exchange achingly soft looks across the table and you force yourself to act busy and not intrude on the moment. You don’t consider yourself a romantic, you’ve never had the time or inclination for it, but you think you might do just about anything for someone to look at you like that. You wait a few minutes, getting the dishes soaking in the sink before returning to the dining room where the guys are chatting quietly. 

“Want to hang out in the living room? The brownies should be done in a little bit but they’ll need to cool.” you suggest and both men nod in agreement, getting up, albeit slowly, from their chairs. 

You enjoy the background noise of the radio while you play cards with the guys. The music is different than what you’re used to but still good. Bucky is amazed you know how to play rummy and poker so well and Steve looks at you like you could hang the moon when you crush Bucky not once, but twice. You find yourself loosening up a little more around them despite knowing it’s probably not the smartest thing. Your competitive nature takes over and you’re taunting and bragging while you play just like you would back home with your guy friends. 

Bucky proposes to you again after he tries a barely cooled brownie from the pan. Steve can’t stop smiling as he nibbles small pieces off his piece and you can tell that he’s just as happy, just less vocal. It’s late when the guys finally head home and you load up their arms with leftovers insisting you don’t want it laying around the house. Bucky pulls you in for a hug, “Thanks, doll.” he murmurs close to your ear and you shiver despite yourself. 

That damn man knows what a flirt he is and it’s just not fair. You decide to level the playing field a little. “I’m glad you came.” you tell Steve quietly when you pull him in for a hug. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before letting him go and he turns positively scarlet as he pulls away. 

You shoot Bucky an amused smirk, making sure he knows you’re on to him and not phased. Well, you are, but damned if you’ll admit it. You don’t have the time to let yourself be smitten with either of them, let alone both. Steve stutters through a goodbye and you wave them off, promising to see them again soon. 

Starting in on the dishes in your sink you realize that smart or not, you’re a goner for the pair of them. You know it’s not fair to any of you, they’re clearly very happy together, but your heart doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. Going home in three weeks is going to hurt and at this point all you can do is minimize how much.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a nearly perfect Thanksgiving Rose does her best to enjoy her final days in 1941 with the guys. As much as leaving will hurt, she takes comfort in knowing she’s doing the right thing. But sometimes, doing the right thing isn’t what you had planned. Content Warning for **very** brief sexual content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! There is a whole lot packed into this chapter and I apologize for exactly none of it. Especially the last bit :D XOXO - Ash

You had expected a month in the 40s to feel like a long time but the first three weeks fly by before you can blink. You’ve adapted to life there pretty easily, though you do miss modern conveniences from time to time. There are moments where would murder for a Starbucks and just ten minutes with your iPhone. It’s worth it though. You are getting to see life in a completely different time period and learning so much more than you expected. Macie has been a great friend both at work and outside of it as well. It’s refreshing having a close female friend who you actually get to see frequently. You haven’t had regular girl time since you were studying for your bachelors degree. 

Bucky and Steve have become fixtures in your life even though you know the risk you’re running with timelines and realities. _It’s only a month_ , you keep reminding yourself. You can’t change someone’s life that much in just a month. 

The guys come over for dinner more days than not during the week, and on weekends you find yourself hanging out with them those days too. You refuse to show either man any preference, not that you would be able to pick between them if you tried, and you hope it will keep either of them from getting any ideas. You wouldn’t do anything to intervene with what they have anyway, they’re perfect together. They both make comments from time to time about taking you out on a proper date but you just laugh off their sweet advances as nothing more than joking flattery. 

Despite Thanksgiving being abnormally late due to the way the weeks fell, the holiday sneaks up on you and you find yourself scrambling to find a turkey that Monday. The SSR office will be closed for Thanksgiving and the day after, giving you an unexpected four day weekend. The prices on meat and butter are up due to it being war time but you planned well and get everything you’ll need to make a traditional dinner for the three of you. You even get enough supplies to make both pumpkin and pecan pies. You’re looking forward to seeing Bucky’s face when he tastes the pecan pie, his sweet tooth is ridiculous. 

The girls in the typing pool are given leave at noon the day before Thanksgiving. It’s a thank you from the senior agents for their hard work and the assumption that the women will be busy in the kitchen preparing for the holiday. You don’t complain as you’re still being paid for the full week despite the time off and you hurry home to get started on the pies. 

When Steve and Bucky arrive on Thanksgiving they’re barely speaking to one another and the tension is palpable. Both men are cordial towards you but don’t spare so much as a word to the other. You settle in around your dining room table and after a few niceties from them about your cooking, the room quiets to the point where only the scraping of silverware on china can be heard. 

“Okay,” you say, setting your napkin on the table, “I’m not putting up with this shit.” two sets of eyes snap to your attention. “What on earth are you two fighting over?” 

Steve glares at Bucky who sends daggers of his own right back. “Why don’t you tell her, Steve from Murray Hill?” Bucky snipes at him. 

“Don’t start this at dinner. Please, Buck. I won’t apologize for it.” Steve grits out at him. 

“One of you had better start talking or I swear I’m throwing the pies out the window.” you threaten. 

Bucky sighs and scrubs a frustrated hand through his hair, “Stevie here went and tried to enlist again yesterday. Earned himself his fifth 4F letter. Claimed he was from Murray Hill this time. Because he’s so eager to get himself killed overseas instead of listening to what his doctors keep telling him.” 

“I’m only doing what’s right. Good men are putting their lives on the line for our country, why should I be any different?” Steve challenges, his voice low and firm.

“Because damn it Steve, you _are_ different! What do you think you’re gonna do when your asthma stirs up in the middle of a firefight? Or when you get pneumonia again from being out in the damp cold for too long? God, or what happens when those coke bottle glasses of yours break and you can’t see two feet from your face?” Bucky’s trembling by the time his outburst is finished and he gets up, heading outside for a smoke to settle his nerves. 

“I’m sorry we ruined dinner, Rose.” Steve says quietly, his head hanging in shame and defeat.

“You did no such thing. But Steve, another 4F? Really?” you get up from your seat and go over to stand behind him, leaning over to hug him tightly. You know this is part of his story but it doesn’t make witnessing it any easier.

“I have to. My pa served in the first great war and it’s my turn now. I’m just doing what every man should.” 

You measure your words carefully, “You know if the doctors are worried about your health it’s probably for good reason, right?” 

“I know, but I manage just fine even with everything I’ve got going on. I can do it, I know I can.” 

“I’m sure you could, but sometimes life has different plans than we do.” you press a chaste kiss to his cheek and squeeze his thin shoulders just a little tighter for a moment. “I’m going to go check on Bucky, see if I can coax him back in so we can eat.” 

Steve nods as you grab your coat and head outside. 

Bucky is leaning against the wall of your apartment building, smoking; thick tendrils of blue smoke wafting up from his lips to the sky. He has to be freezing, having hurried out without his jacket. He watches you walk down the steps and over to him, studying you as if to try and figure out if you’re there to take his side or push Steve’s. 

“Hey you.” you say when you get in front of him, giving his boot a little kick with your shoe.

“Hey.” his tone is guarded and he looks tired. Your heart clenches, knowing how worried he must be about Steve.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this today. I mean… I get why he’s doing it. But it has to be hard for you to watch him do it.”

“It’s hell. He’s better than any of us, ya know? He wants to go do his ‘civic duty’ more than anything, regardless of what it’ll cost him. And here I am, terrified that my number is gonna be the next out of the fish bowl.” 

You pull Bucky into a tight embrace, holding onto him for dear life. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Bucky.” 

Bucky drops his cigarette and wraps his arms around your shoulders, hugging you back and letting your warmth leech through to his goose bumped skin. You want to tell him it’ll be okay but you know it won’t be. By this time next year he’ll have been drafted and off fighting in Azzano. Steve will keep trying until he meets Dr. Erskine and then it’s all history from there. 

You hold on for what feels like hours until Bucky finally pulls back. He gives a harsh sniff, his face ducked out of view and you suspect he’s hiding a few tears. You give him a minute, rubbing your hand from his shoulder to his elbow a few times in a meager offering of comfort. 

“You said there’s pie?” he asks finally.

You laugh at his question before pulling him in for a quick hug and a soft peck on the cheek. “Two kinds. But only if you eat your dinner first.” 

“Well then we should probably get back to it.” he slings an arm around your waist and together you rejoin Steve in the dining room. 

The air having been cleared, the rest of Thanksgiving dinner goes much better. You keep everyone's wine glasses full of the nice red wine you had found and stocked up on. It had been an unnecessary indulgence but you’re glad you had bought a few bottles to share. By the end of the meal their argument is long forgotten and Steve and Bucky are back to their normal bantering. You top off everyone’s glasses and move your little party to the living room to listen to President Roosevelt on the radio. The three of you are sprawled out on your sofa, limbs overlapping in a haphazard, yet comfortable, way. It’s probably not era appropriate in the least but the guys don’t seem to mind and you are too buzzed from the wine to worry. You giggle when you catch Bucky running his fingers through Steve’s hair and smiling down at him fondly. You wish more than anything you could tell them how sweet they are together, how absolutely _right_ they are for each other, and that someday the world will be a friendlier place for their love. Instead you burrow yourself into the warmth of Steve’s chest and hum the tune of your favorite song, wishing you could hear it for a moment. 

“That’s pretty, what is it?” Steve asks when you’re done your sporadic humming.

“Ah, you haven’t heard of it.” you wave your hand dismissively, “We should go dancing.” you topic hop trying to avoid having to explain a song that won’t be written for another seventy years. 

“I’m in.” Bucky mumbles from the other side of Steve. “I’ll even keep Stevie from stepping on your toes.”

“It was one time!” Steve protests.

“I’ll wear sturdy shoes.” you assure them, “I want to dance with both of my guys.” 

Steve blushes lightly, “Oh, we’re yours now, are we?” 

You nod, the wine making you bold. “Yep. You’re stuck with me fellas.” 

“It ain’t a hardship, doll.” Bucky chimes in. 

The guys don’t stay late that night. While you have off work the following day neither of them do. You stretch out on the sofa which seems too big now that you’re the only one on it. Normally you would go out the weekend after Thanksgiving to start your Christmas shopping. You only buy big presents for a few close friends and you need time to have them picked out, wrapped, and shipped to arrive on time. You also pick up smaller things for the guys at work and you like to take your time picking things out so they are personalized for each person. You don’t have to do that right now though. It’s only October back in your real life and it’s not like you plan to take anything back with you. Well, not much anyway. You have a blouse you’ve become fond of that is absolutely going with you. There’s a lot about 1941 that you’re going to miss, both people and things. It’s going to be harder than you originally expected to go back to your time but you take comfort in knowing it’s for the best.

You end up spending the weekend hanging out with Macie. Bucky and Steve are going to see Bucky’s family for a late Thanksgiving gathering on Saturday and plan to stay over, getting back at some point Sunday night. It’s your last weekend in 1941 and you’re a little disappointed but that’s a feeling you’re just going to have to become comfortable with. You have less than a week left and a little distance from the guys might be exactly what you need, despite it being the very opposite of what you want. Your phone rings a little after eight o’clock Sunday night and you almost jump out of your skin. No one calls that late in this era. 

“Hello?” you say into the mouthpiece. 

“Rose! We’re back.” Steve’s voice comes through the receiver, a slightly tinny quality to his usual baritone. 

“Great! How was your trip? Is everything alright?” 

“I told you it was too late to call!” you hear Bucky shout in the background, followed by a thump sound and a hiss of pain. “Sorry, Rose. Everything’s fine. We just missed you, is all.”

“I missed you guys too. How was it with Bucky’s family?”

Steve tells you about their trip and a few anecdotes about Bucky’s sisters and how they tormented him as usual. The conversation doesn’t run overly long but hearing his voice, and a few choice interjections from Bucky in the background, have the ache in your chest dissipating. You invite them over for dinner on Wednesday, wanting to see them just one last time before you leave. It’s stupid, you’re only making it harder for yourself but you _need_ to see them. One more time can’t make that much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. 

Dinner on Wednesday is a lavish affair, you’ve pulled out all the stops wanting to make sure the last meal you make them is one they’ll remember. They fawn over your cooking and insist you come over one night soon so Steve can cook for a change. In the end, it’s no different than every other night the guys have come over. You laugh and talk late into the night, happy to just sit around and enjoy each other’s company. 

“We still have to take you out dancing.” Bucky reminds you as you’re saying your goodbyes for the night.

You nod past the lump that’s formed in your throat. “We do.” you agree. 

“How about Saturday night? We can get all dressed up and go down to the Stork Club.” Steve suggests. 

You fight back the wave of emotion rising up. Steve will be saying something very similar to another woman in about four years if the transcripts from the Valkyrie crash are accurate. “Sounds great.” you manage to respond, burying your face in the crook of Steve’s neck while you hug him. It’s excruciating forcing yourself to let him go. 

Bucky pulls you in for his hug next, “Wear something pretty for us, okay doll?” 

You nod against his chest, “I’ll put on my best dress. You won’t know what to do with yourselves.” 

“I can’t wait.” Bucky lets you go and turns to Steve who’s waiting patiently next to him. Slinging an arm around Steve’s shoulders the pair head out into the cold December night. You stay on the stoop watching them go until they disappear around the corner. It’s only once you’re back inside your apartment that you let yourself fall apart. It’s wrong. It’s impossible. It’s completely ridiculous, but you know you’ll be leaving two pieces of your heart back in 1941 when you leave. You barely make it to your bed before the tears start up and once they do, they don’t stop until your eyes are burning and your throat is sandpaper raw. Forgetting about your lights and the dishes you let your anguish consume you until sleep comes to claim you at last. 

You take off work the day of your jump back to modern times. It’s not like you’ll be needing the paycheck and you want time to get your apartment in order. Someone will come find it the way you leave it in a few days and you at least want to make things easy on them. You also want time to write a letter to Steve and Bucky. You can’t just leave without a word at this point, who knows what they would do to find you and how that might upset the timeline of things. It pains you to write them your goodbye letter but the closure is good for everyone. You claim you’re moving across the country to help your ailing Aunt, which seems like a plausible enough story for the times. You tell them how much their friendship means to you and that you’ll miss them. You tell them to take care of each other, wishing them only the best in their future. 

You’re wandering around your apartment, trying to find ways to kill time until your jump when you decide to make a pan of brownies to drop off with your letter. It feels fitting to leave them with one last treat. You still have all the ingredients and just enough time to make them. You get to work, not a minute to spare. Afterwards, having to re-clean the kitchen gives you something to do and fills your time while you wait for them to bake. By the time the brownies are cool enough to transport you have half an hour to your jump time. It gives you plenty of breathing room to drop off the brownies and the letter before heading to SSR. 

Steve and Bucky should both be at work but they never bother to lock their front door. You plan to leave everything on the kitchen counter and be on your way within five minutes when you arrive. A creaking, thumping sound is your first indication that something is amiss as you open the front door. The door is in mid-swing, your arms full of your bag and the brownie pan, when you hear a throaty gasp that stops you in your tracks. You’re standing in the doorway when you see them and you drop everything you’re carrying. 

Bucky is seated on the sofa, his pants down around his ankles and his shirt tossed carelessly off to the side. His head is canted back against the top of the sofa, an expression of strained determination on his face as his hips snap up against Steve’s. And then there’s Steve. He’s so beautiful, his hair shining in the midday light that filters in through the curtains. A sheen of sweat covers his naked body as he rides Bucky, meeting him thrust for thrust. He’s breathless and panting, his blunt nails scrabbling mindlessly for purchase against Bucky’s chest. It’s raw, hedonistic, and you can’t help but stare even as you drop everything in shock. At the sound of the pan and your bag hitting the floor both men’s eyes snap open to see you standing in the doorway. Bucky shouts your name and Steve flies off of him with a yelp, both of them equally frantic to cover themselves and chase after you. You grab your bag, leaving the brownies, and run down the street to the sound of Bucky calling your name. 

You don’t stop running until you’re outside the SSR office. You check your watch as you lean against the brick wall to catch your breath. You have just under ten minutes to get in and in position. God, but the looks on their faces when they saw you. You know that being a known gay man in the 1940s is as good as a death sentence and they have to be terrified you’ll turn them in. Friend or not, the ‘40s were not a forgiving time for homosexuality. And you’re leaving, they’ll never see you again so of course they’ll assume the worst. You look down at your bag where your goodbye letter to them is still safely tucked. It all went to hell so fast. You wish you had time to go back and tell them it’s okay, you won’t turn them in. You still care about them and you’re happy they have each other. You don’t realize you’re crying until you notice the tears falling on the pocket watch you’re still holding. 

You have four minutes to get to your jump point. It’s just not enough time. This is why there were alternative jump points, in case something went wrong. Well, something had sure as hell gone wrong. You can’t leave them like this, you just can’t. They’re too sweet and kind and good to abandon like this. You rub the antique brooch on your collar, you’ll just have to make the next jump instead. It’s only five more minutes in your world, the team will just have to be patient and wait. Your mind made up, you toss the goodbye letter in the trash and head down the street back to the guys apartment. 

“It’ll be okay.” you hear Bucky saying as you climb the stairs to their door, “I promise, sweetheart. No matter what happens, it’s gonna be okay.” 

The sound of Steve’s sobs tears your heart in two. You open their door unannounced yet again, letting the sound of it get their attention.

“So, are you two decent yet so I can come in or do you still need a minute?” you joke through your tears. 

Two sets of blue eyes stare at you in disbelief. 

“Oh come here you idiots.” you move towards them with outstretched arms, welcoming them to your embrace. Both men dive into your arms, clinging to you while muttering apologies and desperate thanks that you came back. You know that you did the right thing. Timelines and timing be damned. You needed more time with your guys and you’re gonna have it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of Rose’s discovery, the trio figures out how to move on together. Rose’s growing feels throw a wrench in their plans however, making them reassess what they are, and what they want to be, to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Did ya’ll like the twist last chapter? You didn’t really think I’d just *poof* her back to modern times, did you? She still has a long way to go with our boys and we’re just getting started. XOXO - Ash

Neither Bucky or Steve seem to know where to start. Steve brewed some truly terrible coffee for the three of you and you’re thankful for the warm cup in your hands helping to steady your nerves. Bucky and Steve are seated on opposite ends of the sofa while you occupy the padded chair across from them. It’s divisive, you and them, and you hate it but don’t want to push boundaries for this conversation.

“I’m not going to tell anyone. You have to know that I would never do that to you guys.” you assure them. 

Steve lets out a shaky breath, “Thank you, Rose.” 

“You’re not nearly as sneaky as you think you are either. I’ve caught those sweet little looks you give each other when you think I’m not looking. You’re adorable, the both of you.” 

Bucky cringes slightly, “Told ya, punk.” he chastises Steve who just rolls his eyes.

“You’re just as guilty.” you point out.

“Yeah, but you see how pretty Stevie is. How’s a guy supposed to keep his head around him?” 

Steve’s whole face lights up at his words and he fidgets for a minute before gathering up the nerve to move seats to sit next to Bucky. Tucked under Bucky’s protective arm, Steve seems to fully relax for the first time since you all sat down. You dare to move over to the empty sofa seat next to him, hoping he doesn’t shy away from you. He doesn’t and you give him a grateful smile.

“So, how long have you been together?” you ask, curious. 

Bucky chuckles, “Since about the second this one turned those gorgeous blue eyes on me the first time. I didn’t know what to think about it then but as soon as I was old enough to know what it was to really _want_ someone, I knew he was it for me.” 

“Buck.” Steve preens under Bucky’s affection, “I love you.” He huffs a laugh, “Never said that to you in front of anyone else before.” 

“I love you too.” Bucky presses a soft kiss to Steve’s temple and pulls him even closer. “Rose, I have to ask. Why are you so okay with this?”

The truth burns in your chest but know you can’t share it. “I just don’t see why someone’s gender should matter when it comes to love or attraction. We’re all just people.” 

“Do you… have you…? You don’t have to tell us, but do you like other girls?” 

“No, I like men. I tried being with a girl in college but it wasn’t for me.” 

“You really are one in a million.” 

“So, now that it’s out of the way, you two can stop asking me out dancing.” you tease.

Bucky and Steve share hesitant glances. “Uh, well, we don’t have to.” Steve says quietly.

“I’m fine on my own. I don’t need you two taking me out on a fake date.” 

“It helps though, being seen out with a pretty dame. People talk less. That’s why Bucky has earned such a reputation as a ladies man down at the docks.” 

“Oh! Of course. I’d be happy to go out and be seen with either of you then.” 

“I’d really like to take you. Bucky never has trouble finding a dance partner but it’s been a while for me.” 

“Well you just haven’t been asking the right girls. I would like nothing more than to go dancing with you, Steve.” 

“Tomorrow night?” 

“It’s a date.” 

You take extra time to do your hair and make up before your date with Steve on Saturday. It’s silly since you know he’s not attracted to you in that way, but you want to look your best for him. You’re thankful that he has Bucky who loves him so fiercely despite having to hide it from the world. Adjusting your lipstick one last time you hurry to the door to find Steve waiting patiently on the other side, bouquet in hand. It’s a handful of beautiful white daisies and you’re delighted he put in the effort to bring them for you despite it being a ruse. You thank him, letting him come inside while you hunt for a vase. Steve tugs on the lapel of his tan suit nervously while he waits. It’s the best one he owns and even still it hangs on his slight frame, unable to afford a tailor to adjust it for him. His hair is slicked back like Bucky wears his and it’s glossy in the light of your kitchen. How he has trouble finding dates is beyond you but the other women’s loss is your gain. You will happily be his fake date any night he needs you. 

Bucky is already at the Stork Club when you arrive, sipping a drink at the bar with a date of his own. You wonder how they can stand seeing each other out with another person but when it comes down to life or death, you suppose they don’t have much of a choice. 

Steve really is a terrible dancer. You had expected him to at least be competent but he’s a mess on the dance floor, having stepped on your toes several times before the first song is over. Embarrassed and blushing Steve leans forward to whisper in your ear, “Bucky usually leads when dance at home.” 

“Why didn’t you say so?” you whisper back, “I can lead, no one will be the wiser.” Having enjoyed dance classes at the rec center as a teenager you can just as easily lead as follow. You set the pace to the floating instrumentals that fill the dance hall. A trilling of French flows through the speakers and you recognize the song. _La Vie En Rose_. It’s impossibly romantic and you lose yourself in the dance. A quiet baritone interrupts your reverie and you realize Steve is singing softly. His voice is beautiful and you’re speechless listening to him as he sings. The song ends and you’re standing still on the dance floor. “The pain and bothers fade away. Happy, so happy I could die.” Steve translates softly, “When he takes me in his arms, he speaks softly to me, and I see life through rose colored glasses.” 

“Steve.” your voice is hushed, breathless with wanting what you can’t have. 

“You’re my rose colored glasses.” he whispers as he moves even closer in your arms. You’re the same height but the small wedge of your heel has him tilting his head up when he leans in and captures your lips with his own. 

It’s as close to perfect as a first kiss could ever get but you find yourself pushing him away. He’s in love with Bucky and you’re just their cover. It’s too much, too painful for your traitorous heart to bear. His name is a harsh admonishment on your lips. You flee the dance hall, stumbling out into the chilly December air, unsure of where to go. You take a minute in the entrance of an alleyway next to the dance hall to clear your head. The clattering of shoes on pavement skid to a halt as Bucky spots you leaning against the brick wall of the alley. 

“I’m sorry.” you sob as Bucky takes you into his strong arms, “I can’t do it. I just… I can’t. It’s not fair to Steve and I’m sorry. But I can’t.” 

“Shh.” Bucky soothes you, rubbing a hand along your back. “It’s alright, Rose. You don’t have to do this for us. Neither one of us will hold it against you.” 

“I’m sorry.” you apologize once again, “I know you’re together and I love that you two are so perfect for one another but Steve is… And I…” you sniffle, unable to piece together the words you need to explain your outburst to Bucky. 

He knows though. “He really is something, isn’t he? It’s impossible not to love him once he lets you really see him. But Rose, this doesn’t have to be a problem.” 

“How can it not be?” you snap, frustrated, “I can’t do this fake dating thing. Not when I’m fighting off very **real** feelings.” 

“Oh, sweet girl, who said Stevie was faking a thing back there?” 

You blink at him myopically. Your brain struggling to process his words. “But he loves you.” 

“He does. But he’s been smitten with you since the day you saved him in that alley.” 

“I don’t get it.” you shake your head, too stressed and upset to follow what Bucky’s telling you.

“Why not? You can handle two men being together just fine, but someone wanting to share that love with more than one person is too much?” Bucky’s tone is light, teasing, but the weight of his words hit you hard. 

“You want to… share?”

Bucky’s slow, easy smile is back and your knees are weak under its radiance. “Yeah, doll. Stevie and I share nicely. It hasn’t happened very often but when it does, well, we both like dames too. And we always come home to each other in the end. You’re the first we _both_ wanted to pursue though.” 

The last admission has you swaying on your feet. “Both of you.” 

“Yeah, both of us. But you seemed so sweet on Steve, I didn’t push the issue. He deserves a little extra loving, if you ask me.” 

“But what if I wanted… both.” 

Bucky raises his eyebrows almost to his hair line in shock. “You were interested in us both? Before you knew about me and him.” 

“I couldn’t have picked if you held a gun to my head.” you admit with a shrug and a helpless chuckle. 

“Oh, doll, that changes everything.” he murmurs pulling you back into his arms.

You let yourself breathe in the comforting scent of him, basking in it until he pulls away again. “We need to go find Steve.” he tells you gruffly, “Then we can finish this conversation at home.” 

You let Bucky lead you by the hand back to the Stork Club where Steve is talking with Bucky’s date over a tumbler of whiskey. “I found your girl, Rogers.” Bucky calls out cheerfully. 

You smile nervously at Steve, unsure of what to do next.

Bucky pulls his date off to the side for a minute and you can hear him telling her that he’s going to have to call it a night. That his best pal is about to be dumped and he needs to be there for him afterwards. The girl nods sagely, telling him he’s a good man and that maybe she can find a friend for Steve the next time they go out. She hurries off, leaving Bucky, you and Steve staring at each other over the small club table. “Come on you two. We have a lot of talking to do.” Bucky announces, throwing back the rest of the whiskey in one gulp and heading for the door. Steve waits until you move to follow and then falls line a step behind you. 

The walk back to the guys’ apartment is quiet, tension thick in the air. You know of polyamory, it’s not a completely foregin concept in your time, but you never expected to be considering it yourself. If that’s even what Bucky was hinting at. Back inside the safe seclusion of their apartment Bucky heads for the kitchen, rustling around the cupboards until he comes back with a mostly full bottle of scotch and three low tumblers. He pours doubles for you and Steve but a single for himself. “You two need to catch up so we can talk about this.” he instructs, pushing the glasses at you. 

You drink yours down quickly, disliking the burn of cheap scotch now that you knew what the good kind could taste like. It helps though, after a few minutes of idle chit chat you can feel the loosening of your limbs as it takes effect. Bucky fills your glasses again before he finally speaks up. “First things first. Rose, please tell Steve why you ran off so he stops looking like you kicked his dog.” 

You force down your nerves, “I’m sorry for running off. I couldn’t keep pretending to like you when I really did. Like you, that is. I would never do anything to disrupt what you and Bucky have, I care about you both so much. But being out with you tonight was more than I could bear, thinking you were just pretending while I was falling for you for real.” 

“Steve,” Bucky resumes his role as moderator, “Please tell Rose that you weren’t pretending.” 

“Not for a minute.” Steve says earnestly. “Rose, I really do like you. And you wouldn’t be hurting what Bucky and I have at all. We’ve talked about this and it’s not the first time one of us has dated a girl since we’ve been together.” 

“Now for the reason we’re all sitting here. Steve, Rose can’t choose between us.” Bucky sits back with a smug smile as he watches Steve try to process what he’s telling him.

“She can’t choose?” he parrots back.

“She likes us both, pal. Equally.”

“We’ve always hoped we’d find a girl…” Steve trails off, stunned. 

“I know, I know. I never thought we’d get so lucky.” Bucky leans over Steve on the sofa, pulling your hand into his. “So what do ya say, Rose? You wanna give us a chance? You could still only date one us in public but we could all be together behind closed doors. We could still hang out in public as a group, just with one of us as a third wheel.” 

You hate that you’ll have to limit your affections to behind closed doors but it’s the times you’re living in. Steve and Bucky have been doing it their whole lives and yet they’re still happy together after all the years of hiding. You give yourself a minute to think if it’s worth it. Especially knowing the risk you’re running with the timelines. Looking at the two of them, wanting them more than anyone else you’ve ever been with, it seems your heart made up your decision long ago. You nod, your heart and brain aligned. “I want to try.” 

Both men’s faces light up like the sun, “But,” you warn, “the second I think the three of us being together is hurting what the two of you have, I’m out. Permanently. Your relationship comes first no matter what. As much as I want to be part of it, I won’t risk what you have.” 

Bucky and Steve both nod, glancing at each other nervously. 

“Can I…” Steve starts and stops, looking between you and Bucky hesitantly. “Can I have a do over of that kiss?” he asks finally. 

You fight back a laugh. Sweet reckless Steve, always jumping head first into things despite how nervous they make him. “Of course.” you tell him leaning in closer. 

Steve looks back at Bucky one last time before meeting you halfway. He’s less hesitant this time, eagerly slotting his lips with yours before deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue tentatively in your mouth. You’re breathless, dizzy from the kiss and intrusion of his tongue. He tastes like cheap scotch and something deeper, something undeniably _Steve_. When he pulls back and leans into Bucky’s waiting arms you can’t even think. “So this is happening.” you say lamely before your brain can catch up to your mouth.

Bucky laughs, “Yeah, doll, it is.” he shifts out of his seat and Steve moves into it, leaving the spot next to you open for Bucky to occupy. Bucky brushes a stray lock of hair away from your face, cupping your cheek gently in his hand. “My turn.” he murmurs before moving in to claim your lips for himself. Where Steve was all rush and excitement, Bucky is delicate and slow. He presses his lips to yours like a question, waiting for you to respond before continuing. You meet his kiss happily, lost in the tenderness he’s showing you. It’s impossible not to compare the two, but neither is better than the other, just different. You feel like you’re made of glass the way Bucky is so painfully careful with you, tasting your lips gently, letting you steer the kiss where you want it to go. He tastes like sugar and you giggle a little, it figures with the sweet tooth he’s got. There’s a rawness under the sweetness though, like a campfire and you want to lose yourself in him forever. Bucky pulls back at the sound of your giggle, studying you curiously. 

“You taste like sugar. I should have known with the giant sweet tooth you have.” you explain with a smirk.

Steve nods, knowingly, and Bucky just laughs it off seeing Steve’s agreement. “You’re both crazy.” he tells you. 

“Do you have the whole day free tomorrow?” Steve asks you.

“Yeah, I do. I don’t want to mess up whatever plans you guys have though.” you tell him. 

“Well, you’ve already seen what our day off plans normally are. Walked right in, in the middle as a matter of fact...” Steve grins, the feisty little shit that he is, “But we didn’t have any plans for tomorrow yet. We’re probably just going to stay around here and relax.” 

“Stay with us, darlin’.” Bucky pleads, pulling you into his arms. 

“How can a girl say no to that?” you concede, “But, I insist on taking my guys out properly. I have a spare dollar or two and I want to see that new Wolfman movie that just came out.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” Steve starts to protest.

“I know, but I want to. I would spoil the pair of you rotten if I had my way.” 

“You already do so much for us though.” Bucky chimes in looking concerned.

“I have old family money to fall back on.” you bluff easily, “It’s not a hardship on me and you two deserve a break for once. Let me do this for you.” 

“What d’ya say, Stevie? Want to go see a film tomorrow?” 

Steve nods, smiling, finally getting on board with the plan. “Do we get popcorn?” 

You return his smile, “Of course! And sodas. And red licorice. Maybe snow caps, too.” 

“Sounds perfect.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose spends an idyllic holiday season with the guys before tragedy strikes, threatening to disrupt the timeline that Rose is trying so hard to keep on course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! We’re in full swing relationship mode now and I just adore the whole “stucky x reader” set up. Prepare yourself for sweet fluff and a pinch of angst before even sweeter fluff. Because ya’ll should know by now that’s my jam lol. XOXO - Ash

Dating the guys turns out to be very similar to what you had been doing up until that point. They come over every other day, sometimes every day if your schedules align. In public Steve is your boyfriend and you happily chit chat with the girls at the office who all are curious about how smitten you are with the tiny, shy, artist. There’s always that ache in your chest though, when you want to share something about Bucky but can’t. He’s your boyfriend’s best friend and while you can tell the occasional story about the three of you hanging out, there’s so much you can’t share. The truth is, Bucky is actually the sweeter of the two. He’s desperately affectionate and tactile with you and Steve. While Steve will spend an afternoon drawing something in his sketch pad, Bucky isn’t happy unless he’s tangled around you like an octopus. You indulge him often, surprised by how easy it is to be close with him. Steve jokes that it’s nice having someone else for Bucky to throw himself on for a change. Not that Steve isn’t affectionate, but he’s more like a cat; coming to you in infrequent bursts when the mood strikes him. 

The holidays come and go quietly. Bucky and Steve head up to visit Bucky’s family for a few days and you stay home eagerly awaiting their return. You made them promise not to get anything but they both show up on your doorstep with gifts in hand when they get back. Steve gives you a sketch of the three of you sprawled out on the sofa together. It’s beautifully done and you promise to keep it on your bedside table. Bucky gives you a pair of the thick woolly socks you steal from him whenever you spend time at their place. They’re your favorite and you’re touched knowing he put a lot of thought into your gift. You grumble about them spending money on you but they ignore it, doing the same when they unwrap their packages. 

You had wanted to get them things they wouldn’t have bought for themselves. Steve has to stop halfway through thanking you for his new art supplies, choking up with emotion until he finally just pulls you in his arms for a hug that lasts for what feels like forever. Bucky actually is rendered speechless by his coat and gloves. He showers you with kisses when his brain finally catches up and you know he’s appreciative of the gift. He had gone without a new coat for a few years now, his getting more worn and threadbare each season. Bucky always claimed getting a warm coat for Steve was the priority, letting his own wait even when it really couldn’t. The gloves were likewise necessary. His hands were always chapped from the bitter cold and dampness down at the docks and they couldn’t afford good leather gloves that would keep his hands dry. 

The three of you spend the whole weekend in your apartment, snuggled safely away from the world. The guys are both gentlemen through and through, volunteering to take the sofa and the floor to sleep on. You know girls aren’t supposed to be so free in the ‘40s but you can’t possibly let them sleep uncomfortably when you have a bed big enough for the three of you to sleep in. Bucky caves first, pointing out that Steve has enough health problems without him sleeping badly and aggravating his back. You lead them both down the hall to your bed where they slip in next to you like they belong there. Bucky claims the middle, the prime cuddling spot, or so he claims, leaving you and Steve to trade amused grins over him. 

New Years Eve and Day are spent at their apartment, Steve claiming it’s only fair since they celebrated Christmas at yours. He cooks up a small hunk of corned beef, simmering it slowly all day with cabbage, potatoes, and other root vegetables he was able to get on sale. It’s quite different than the pork and sauerkraut you’re used to but you go along with their traditions without complaint. You sit around dreaming up plans for 1942 together, places to go and things to do. Bucky mentions the rink at Rockefeller center, everyone has been talking about it since it opened a few years ago and it’s supposed to be quite an experience. Steve agrees it would be a good time and tells Bucky they should start saving now so they can take you before spring comes. You shake your head, “Why wait?” you ask them, “It’s probably still decorated from Christmas. What better time to go than when it’s at it’s best? We can go tomorrow.”

Steve sighs, a tight smile on his face. “We’re just dreamin’, doll. As much as we want to take you, that place is for those fancy Manhattan folks. Last I heard, it was a dollar a skate and then we have the subway cost to get there and back.” 

“So I’ll pay for it, I don’t care. I want to take you two out and do something fun. Start the new year off right.” 

The pinched look on Steve’s face deepens, “We don’t need your charity…”

“My **what**!?” you bark at him. Bucky has inched back, wisely staying out of the escalating argument. He has enough sisters to know that Steve is not winning this one. 

“I know this isn’t the most traditional relationship but you gotta let us take care of you, doll. Like a man should.”

“Steven. Grant. Rogers.” you grit out in outrage, “If I want to take you out I damn well will. Don’t start with that antiquated, patriarchal, misogynistic bullshit!” 

Steve flushes, his cheeks burning brightly, and he stands up from his seat on the sofa to storm off to his bedroom where he slams the door behind him. 

Bucky shoots you a raised eyebrow, making sure he isn’t in trouble by association. You shake your head and sit back heavily, worried you ruined New Years Day. 

“He’ll be okay, just give him a minute to calm down.” Buck assures you, “You and I both know Stevie supports the women’s rights movement but it’s still a hard habit to break, wanting to take care of our best gal.” 

You climb into Bucky’s arms, wanting the comfort it brings you, “I’m sorry for ruining the holiday.”

“You didn’t ruin a thing. Just give him a few more minutes and then go talk to him. You have to understand, we didn’t grow up with money. I know you did so it’s not something you worry about, but that’s hard for us to adjust to.” 

You snuggle in against him, letting the minutes slip by until you can go to Steve and make things right. 

When you do finally go to him, Steve is staring out the window, brow furrowed under the weight of his thoughts. You apologize, and so does he. You both know your hearts were in the right place even if it doesn’t always come out that way. 

The next day you take your guys ice skating at Rockefeller Center just like you had wanted to. They insist on buying lunch and you let them, a quiet compromise to keep everyone happy. You skate for hours until your legs are weak and your fingertips and noses are frozen from the cold. Bucky fusses over both of you the whole way home, worried you’ll catch your death. It was the best day you can remember having in years, and one you’ll cherish the memory of forever. It was also the last good day you had together before it all went to hell. 

xxXxx

Bucky’s concern over Steve or you getting sick turns out to be legitimate. Two days after your trip Steve is coughing deep and rough, his asthmatic lungs not faring well against the illness he’s caught. By the third day he’s in bed with a fever that climbs faster than the medicine can work. Bucky can’t take the time off work, not if he wants to keep a roof over their heads, and so you call out from the SSR office, letting them know your boyfriend is not well. 

Seeing Steve suffering is a new level of hell. He’s sweaty from the fever, shaking from chills, and the cough in his chest could wake the dead. It’s amazing his body doesn’t just shatter apart from the force of it. You stay by his side, giving him sips of warm broth and tea when he can manage and reading to him from his favorite books. After a week he looks like a skeleton, shrunken on himself and devoid of the liveliness he normally radiates with. Bucky calls the doctor then, scared of the cost but more afraid of losing the love of his life. 

You can’t help but blame yourself. You knew Steve was prone to getting sick but you had pushed to go skating with them. It was selfish, so selfish, and now Steve was paying the price. Bucky tries to soothe your fears and guilt, reminding you Steve caught pneumonia just by stepping outside most years. You put on your bravest face and smile so Bucky will have one less thing to worry about, but it doesn’t alleviate your guilt in the least. There’s also the undercurrent of fear that you’ve messed up the timelines now and ruined everything. _He has to pull through. He has to, so he can go be Captain America and save the world _, you tell yourself.__

__Bucky won’t let you pay for the doctor who comes or the medicine he prescribes. You argue over it briefly but Bucky insists he saves for things like this and they’ll be fine. Steve comes out of it a few days later, the new medicine doing its job at last._ _

__“Hey,” Steve croaks, his voice rough from disuse._ _

__Your eyes fly up from the book you’re reading to meet bright blue eyes that are focusing on you for the first time in ten days. “Steve.” you squeak out through the tightness in your throat. You can’t contain your relief. “Oh honey, I thought we were gonna lose you.” you sob._ _

__Steve reaches out with a painfully thin hand, “It’s gonna be okay.”_ _

__“God, I was so scared.”_ _

__“Come on, get in here with me if you can stand the smell.” he jokes weakly._ _

__You carefully climb into bed with him, pulling him close until you’re lying flush against one another. You stroke the sweat sticky hair from his face, running your fingers over the sharp bones of his cheeks. Steve is too worn out to protest as you sprinkle kisses across his face._ _

__“If this is the treatment for whatever I had, sign me up for another round.”_ _

__You frown at him fiercely. “Don’t even joke. I don’t know what I would do without you.”_ _

__“I’m not going anywhere, don’t you worry.”_ _

__“I’ve done nothing else for ten days. I can’t lose you, I love you.” Tears are still falling from your eyes but you catch the change in Steve’s expression. You hadn’t even realized you said I love you out loud, having repeated it so often in your head while at his bedside that it feels natural now._ _

__“You love me, huh?” his eyes shine with amazement, a soft smile playing on his lips._ _

__“Yeah, I do.” you admit, not wanting to take it back now that the truth is out._ _

__“I love you too, Rose. Does Bucky know yet?”_ _

__“I haven’t said it to him yet. I will though, tonight.”_ _

__“Make sure I’m there when you do. I’m sure he’ll react much better than when I said it to him the first time.” he huffs out a weak laugh and you reach back to get him a cup of tea from the side table. Steve sips slowly, letting his body adjust. “Do you wanna guess what that jerk said to me when I told him I was in love with him?”_ _

__“I can’t even imagine.”_ _

__“I was fifteen and he was sixteen. It was summer and we were flush after he got his first paycheck from helping sweep up at the docks where his dad worked. We spent the day at Coney Island eating hot dogs and riding the ferris wheel until they kicked us off. We were sitting down on the beach watching the waves as the moon came up, everyone else had left by then, and I realized it was the moment I’d been waiting for. I looked over at him and said ‘I love you, Buck’ to which the idiot said ‘love you too, pal.” easy as could be. So I told him ‘I’m in love with you.” and the great buffoon shoved at me and said “You do not!”. So then I shoved at him back and we ended up rolling around scrapping on the beach until finally, one of us let up. It wasn’t until we’d gotten home to my place that said he was in love with me too.”_ _

__“That’s terrible and wonderful. I love it.” you tell him._ _

__“I never thought we’d find someone like you. I can’t believe I got this lucky twice.”_ _

__You blush at his words, unable to believe his love for you could be even remotely close to his feelings for Bucky._ _

__“What time is it?” Steve asks squinting at the clock._ _

__“Quarter after four.” you reach to the nightstand for his glasses so he can see for himself too._ _

__“I hate to ask this of you, but could you help me to the bathroom? I could really use a shower.”_ _

__“Honey, it’s okay. Bucky and I have been taking turns caring for you so it’s no big deal.”_ _

__“Great. Not exactly the first impression I’d like to leave when you see me naked the first time.”_ _

__“Hey, don’t be like that.” you scold him as you let him support himself on you to stand, “If you think for one minute I’m going to see something I don’t like when I look at you, you’re crazy.”_ _

__Steve grumbles but decides he wants to be clean more than he wants to act tough. You half help, half carry Steve into the bathtub, setting him down carefully inside it while you get the water nice and warm. He tries to wash himself but his arms are shaking after a minute and you take over washing his hair for him, getting it nice and clean for the first time in over a week. The bath exhausts Steve and he naps while you make dinner, barely keeping his eyes open to dry off._ _

__Bucky is ecstatic when you tell him Steve was awake and talking earlier. He barely stops to give you a kiss before he’s barging into the bedroom to see Steve. You join them a little while later, eating dinner in bed on trays so that Steve can rest but still be included. He’s sleeping again before he even finishes his soup, his tray whisked away to let him rest peacefully between you and Bucky. You talk quietly over him, catching up on your days and sharing in your relief that he’s finally improved._ _

__“Thank you for helping me care for him. It got really bad this time. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” Bucky says again, grateful for all your help over the past week._ _

__“It was no problem. I love him, of course I wanted to take care of him when he’s sick.”_ _

__Bucky looks over, surprised. “You love him, huh?”_ _

__“I do.”_ _

__“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s easy to love.” Bucky looks down at Steve with such sweetness it’s hard for you not to jump over Steve and kiss him._ _

__“Hey Buck.” you catch his attention again._ _

__“Hmm?” he finally looks over at you._ _

__“I love you too.”_ _

__Bucky smiles wide and warm like the sun. “You do, huh?”_ _

__“Yep.” you chew on your lip, waiting for his next move._ _

__“It’s a good thing then. ‘Cause I love you too.” Bucky gets up, coming around to your side of the bed where he can pull you up into his arms._ _

__“I love you.” you whisper between kisses._ _

__“I love you, so much doll.” he replies, burying his face into the curve of your neck._ _

__“Ah shit. Steve wanted to be awake for that.” you groan._ _

__“What? Why?” Bucky asks with a chuckle._ _

__“He wanted to make sure you didn’t shove me after I said it.”_ _

__“Oh no, he told you the story!” Bucky is cringing, embarrassed by the memory._ _

__“It’s sweet.” you assure him._ _

__Bucky starts trailing kisses up your throat again and you sink into his embrace, letting yourself enjoy the contact after a week of tense worry._ _

__Steve really will be okay, you’re sure of that now. The timeline is intact despite all of your involvement in their lives and you just have to get through the next four months without disrupting anything else. Though how you are going to walk away from the two of them is getting more and more complicated._ _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Times are tough as Steve recovers and unfortunately the guys won’t admit how tough until it’s too late. The revelation sparks an impulsive decision and the three grow closer as a result. Content Warning: smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Please note the content warning: there be smut ahead. Though I feel like if ya’ll are still with me, this is part of what you’re here for lol. So please enjoy the next twist that life has in store for these three and them finally falling into bed together. XOXO - Ash

You knew something was wrong when Bucky started working seven days a week. You missed the lazy weekends together and despite his insistence that it was mandatory overtime, you wondered. Then he came home with a split lip and two black eyes. He had started boxing again, going in for a few fights after work on Tuesdays. The fights weren’t strictly legal but the payouts were good, he told you. Steve was drawing more than ever, cranking out prototypes for all sorts of businesses in town trying to attract new clients. He had tried to pick up extra shifts at the grocery store but he was still weak from his bout of pneumonia and they didn’t have any extra work for him other than hard labor receiving shipments. 

You started inviting the guys over more, disliking how cold they were keeping their apartment. You were sure it was to keep the heating costs down and you didn’t want to complain. So you had them over every night you could, making sure they had somewhere warm to hang out and a good meal in their bellies. You worried but let them handle things privately, not wanting to upset them.

March finally arrives but there’s no sign of spring on the horizon. It’s too cold to be out for very long and instead the three of you have plans to stay in at your apartment for the evening. After an hour of waiting around, you try them by phone with no luck. You’re dialing them a third time when they finally walked in. 

“What happened?” you almost shout seeing their stricken expressions. 

Bucky and Steve are mirror images of disheveled hair and red rimmed eyes. “I can’t… I can’t, Buck.” Steve starts crying softly, curling into Bucky’s chest. His fists are clenched by his sides and he’s shaking head to toe.

You’re barely breathing waiting for one of them to tell you what’s wrong. 

Bucky sighs heavily. “We got a little behind on the rent when Steve got sick.” he explains, “I thought we could get caught up if I took enough extra shifts and won a few fights. We have until Monday to clear out.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me? How much do you owe? I can get your landlord a check today.” you blurt out all in one breath. 

“It’s too late, they have a new tenant moving in on Monday. We’re out.” 

You pace the floor, thinking. “We’ll pack up your stuff this weekend and move you in here. It’ll be fine, I have plenty of space.” 

“We can’t.” Steve finally speaks up, “You know it's a girls only building and only one bedroom. People will talk and then you’ll be evicted too.” 

“So where are you going then?” you push, frustrated. 

“I’m gonna call my ma, see if she’ll take us in ‘til we find a new place.” Bucky explains.

“How are you going to get to work then?”

“It’ll be a hike but we’ll have to make do.” 

“No,” you’re shaking your head as you pace, “No, absolutely not.” 

“Rose...” Bucky protests weakly.

“No, fuck this.” you stop, staring at them, fuming. Your tone is commanding, allowing no argument from them. “You’re staying here until we find somewhere. Steve, how do you feel about getting married?”

Steve practically squawks, “What?”

“Not for real, you idiot! We tell everyone we’ve eloped and that will buy us some time to find a new place to live. Then the three of us can find a nice two bedroom place. No one will actually ask to see a marriage certificate and it’ll let us get an apartment together as newlyweds. Then Bucky will come along too because he’s your friend and needs somewhere to live on such short notice. We’ll have a spare bedroom for him and everything.” 

“It might work.” Bucky says after a quiet minute. He’s watching you with a calculating gaze, you won’t back down under his scrutiny though.

“It _will_ work.” you insist.

“Rose, we can’t ask you to do this.” Steve implores, “It’s my fault we’re in this mess and…”

“Steve, no!” Bucky snaps at him, “This is not your fault. You didn’t ask to get sick. You didn’t ask to be born with a bum heart and shoddy lungs. We’re in this together.” 

Steve’s face crumples and he hugs close to Bucky again. You wrap your arms around Steve’s back, joining in their hug. “Can we just go lie in bed for a bit? I need to be close to you.” you request.

The guys don’t have the heart to deny you and they follow down the hall to your room. The three of you wrap yourselves up in each other, letting the fears and worries of the day fade away. 

“You really sure about this?” Bucky asks after a long while. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light filtering down the hall from the living room. You can just make out his concerned expression in the dimness. 

“Of course I am. I love you, both of you. It’s a little fast, but who cares? Besides, this is technically my fault.” 

“Oh lord in heaven.” Bucky moans, “Not you too.” 

You shove at him lightly, “Hear me out. If I hadn’t pushed so damn hard about going skating we wouldn’t have kept Steve out in the cold long enough for him to get sick.” 

“And if anything in my body worked the way it was supposed to, I would’ve been fine being out in the cold just like you two were.” Steve chimes in.

“You two were made for each other. Pair of self sacrificing saints.” Bucky complains.

“Good thing we have you then, huh?” you smile at him, kissing his shoulder affectionately. 

“Someone has to keep you two in line.” 

“You love us.” Steve coos from the other side of Bucky, wrapping himself even tighter around him to press noisy kisses on his face. 

“I do not.” Bucky huffs with faux displeasure. 

You join in Steve’s fun, tickling his ribs lightly, “Yes you do, admit it.” 

Bucky wriggles around between your tickles and Steve’s kisses until all three of you are breathless and laughing. You rest your hand on Bucky comfortably as you all settle down, limbs entwined as usual. Bucky who usually loves the middle is holding himself a little stiffer than usual. 

“You okay, baby?” you ask him, worried he’s still fretting over the apartment.

“Uh, I would be a little better if you could move your hand.” he says tightly.

“What? Why?” you move your hand, trying to see what the problem is and Bucky hisses out a breath as you realize what it is you’re touching. “Oh!” you yelp, pulling your hand back. 

Steve is cackling over on his side of the bed, unable to stifle his amusement. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” you stammer. 

“It’s not a problem darlin’ but I’d rather wait until you’re a willing participant for something like that.” 

“Oh I’m willing but-”

“You are?” “Whoa what?” the guys chorus in surprise. 

You blush, “Well, yeah. I’ve thought about it and I’m ready for… that, whenever you are. I just didn’t want to push.” 

Steve takes a shaky breath and Bucky makes a strangled sound in his throat. 

“We didn’t want to push either.” Steve tells you, running a hand over the length of your arm.

“We’re idiots.” you lament. 

Bucky nods and rolls so he’s hovering over you a little, making it easier for him to lean down and kiss you. Slowly you find yourself being rolled into the middle of the bed where Steve can trail his long artist's fingers over every inch of bare skin he finds. You would know Bucky is aroused even if you didn’t feel the hard length of him pressing into your hip. His kisses are deeper, more desperate, depriving you of oxygen until you’re both panting. Steve just bides his time until Bucky rolls off and then Steve shifts over into his place. While Steve gets his fill of kissing you, Bucky occupies himself watching you both and palming himself lightly over top his pants. You catch sight of him when Steve trails kisses down the column of your throat and your breath hitches as your eyes meet. His pupils are blown wide, lips parted as he breathes heavily, and you can’t think of anything else you want more than to push him over the edge he’s been dancing around. 

“Look at him, Steve.” you pant. 

Steve glances over at Bucky and he whistles lightly. “Should we take over for him?” Steve asks you with a predatory smile.

“I think we should.” you agree and slip out from under Steve. Bucky is watching, curious what you have in mind and he lets Steve rearrange him so he’s back between the two of you. 

“Hey, baby.” you purr in his ear, nipping the shell of it between your teeth. 

Bucky moans, his hips thrusting instinctively at the contact, making Steve chuckle as he works to get Bucky’s pants off. You tug Bucky’s shirt up and over his head once his pants are off and he’s left naked between the two of you. The size of him has you shuddering in anticipation. Though his length is only slightly above average, he’s deliciously thick. It’s going to be a stretch you feel for days when he finally fucks you. 

Steve runs his talented fingers up and down Bucky’s body, teasing his bare skin until he’s trembling. You join in the fun, taking your time to let your hands memorize every inch of Bucky. His shoulders are wide and corded with muscle that ripples down to strong arms. You would have expected pronounced abs from a boxer, especially one with so much upper body strength, but his middle is as broad as the rest of him. He’s strong, no doubt about it, but the muscles lay blurred under a layer of softness. He’s solid and sturdy in a way that makes you feel protected in his presence. 

Steve is kneading the softness of Bucky’s inner thighs when your hand moves down, hovering over his straining erection. “Go ahead, doll.” Steve encourages you. 

You take Bucky in hand, unable to close your fist all the way but sliding it up and down as firmly as you can. The friction isn’t enough, it’s too dry and you wish you had lube to help. Bucky clearly isn’t concerned, he’s moaning and gasping as you stroke him slowly.

“Here, you need a little wetness to make it easier.” Steve offers, placing a hand on your shoulder. You move back and are gaping when Steve lowers his mouth around the head of Bucky’s cock. He swallows him down with familiar ease, spreading saliva around with his tongue as he pops off with an obscene slurp. Bucky is gripping the sheets in his fists, straining to keep his composure. 

“No fair.” you pout childishly. “Now I wanna.” 

Bucky takes one look at your pouty lip and groans, “You two are gonna be the death of me.” 

Steve watches with rapt fascination as you pop Bucky’s thick head in your mouth, slowly taking more and more of him in until your jaw aches and you have to stop in fear of your gag reflex. Steve rubs circles on your back as you bob up and down a few times, making Bucky gasp out a series of half moans. You lean back finally, not wanting him to finish in your mouth, at least not this time. This time is about sharing him with Steve and you can’t do that with his cock in your mouth. “Together?” you ask Steve hopefully. 

“Together.” he agrees and you each wrap a hand around Bucky’s cock, moving in tandem easily thanks to your combined saliva still on him. You each take a side of him, letting hands and mouths roam free while you work him until he’s babbling mindlessly and spilling into your entwined hands. 

You press one last kiss to Bucky’s lips and dart off to get a wet washcloth from the bathroom to clean up the mess. Steve accepts it gratefully and cleans Bucky off too. 

“Did you like watching that?” you ask Steve, taking note of the bulge in his trousers. 

“My best girl taking care of my best guy? Of course I did. Best thing I’ve ever seen.” His smile is wolfish and you can’t wait to get him as bare as Bucky.

“You’re overdressed, darlin.” Bucky points out. 

“I should fix that.” you tease. For the first time in your life, you’re not shy about stripping down in front of a lover for the first time. You have your hang ups about your body, everyone does, but something about the pure adoration these two show you makes it easy to bare yourself to them. You toe off your socks while pulling your blouse up over your head. Your pants are the next to go and before you know it you’re left in just your underwear. Both men are gaping, stock still and waiting for your next move. It’s a powerful feeling and fuels you to unclasp your bra, toss it aside, and then peel down your panties so that you’re fully naked. 

Bucky makes grabby hands at you and you rejoin them on the bed between him and Steve. They take turns kneading your breasts and lavishing your chest with kisses, one on each side. You’re losing your battle for composure quickly, you wanted to take care of Steve so badly. Wanted to make sure he knows how much you desire him too. “Steve, honey.” you gasp, “Why are you still clothed? I want you too, honey.” 

Steve’s breath catches in his throat and he whines quietly. 

“You heard the lady.” Bucky asserts, equally enthused to get Steve naked. 

He relents finally and shucks off his pants and shirt quickly. The head of his cock catches on his boxers as they go down and it bobs once it’s sprung free. Steve isn’t as thick as Bucky but he’s longer, significantly so. How he manages to hide that monster against his thin frame is beyond you and you tell him as much before your brain catches up to your mouth. He chuckles and blushes prettily under your compliment. He kneels on the bed and you and Bucky both move up onto your knees to join him with eager kisses.

“There’s a reason he’s so cocky.” Bucky jokes and you swat at him with a laugh. You and Bucky take turns capturing Steve’s mouth with kisses and racing hands up and down his slender body.

“You’re so beautiful.” you croon, littering kisses across his delicate collar bones. 

“What d’ya say we give Stevie a special treat for being so pretty for us?” Bucky’s voice is low and raw. 

“Sounds perfect.” 

“You want to taste him too, darlin’?”

You nod eagerly. 

“You go down there for a minute while I find the spot on his neck that makes his toes curl. Then we’ll trade.” 

“Okay.” you sink down Steve’s body, eager to taste him. You can’t fit as much of him in your mouth as you would like but you grasp the rest in your hand to make up for it. Steve is writhing under your ministrations and you know the second Bucky finds that sweet spot on his neck because his body starts shaking like he’ll just shudder apart at any second. 

“Time to trade.” Bucky tells you, rubbing a hand on your back to get your attention. 

You run your mouth along Steve’s neck, hoping you can find this mystery spot and Bucky grins. “Why don’t you spend some time with those pretty little nipples of his. That’ll give you a real treat.” 

You quirk an eyebrow at Bucky who grins and then swallows Steve down with practiced grace. It’s erotic as hell, watching Bucky deepthroat Steve’s cock and you squirm to press your thighs together a little to ease the ache between them. Trusting Bucky’s direction, you run your hands over Steve’s chest, letting your thumbs trace over his small pink nipples. He whimpers, fisting his hands in Bucky’s hair at the contact and you’re encouraged to keep going. You lean forward, kissing his open mouth for a moment before lowering your head to lick roughly against his left nipple. Steve’s body is shaking and he’s making garbled, desperate noises when you switch to his right. “This is fantastic.” you tell Bucky, pleased to be working Steve up so much. 

Bucky chuckles around Steve who practically yells at the feeling of the vibrations added to the mix. He’s whimpering, pleading for release and you pat Bucky on the shoulder. You’ve tormented him enough, it’s time to let him fly. Bucky nods and doubles down his efforts. You work your tongue over Steve’s right nipple while your hand rolls the left between your fingers, pulling a little as you go. Steve comes with a shout, all but vibrating out of his own skin while he clings to you with one arm, the other gripping Bucky’s hair. You ease off at the same time Bucky does and Steve collapses, boneless and spent. 

Bucky is beaming, pleased with himself while he wipes his mouth on the back of his forearm and sits down next to Steve. You crook a finger at him, motioning for him to come forward and he pops back up, obeying readily. It catches him off guard when you claim his mouth with yours, deepening the kiss until you’re licking into his mouth, tasting him and a faint hint of Steve on his tongue. Steve’s cock twitches at the sight, spent but desperately interested. Bucky moans into the kiss before pulling back, “Filthy girl.” he chastises affectionately. 

You shrug one shoulder, not caring in the least. You know they enjoy it and you tell them as much.

“True, true.” Bucky concedes, “But now, darlin’, we’re gonna enjoy you.” he glances over to Steve who is still breathing heavily, “You need a minute, sweetheart?” 

Steve shakes his head as he starts to pull himself up, “I can do this all day.” 

“Good.” Bucky turns his attention back on you and Steve is shuffling closer so he can join in the fun. They cage you in between them, kissing you briefly in turn until you can’t keep up with them. They trail down the side of your neck in unison while two different hands palm your breasts. It’s the oddest, most overwhelming feeling having them work you over in tandem. Their motions the same but the feeling slightly different, it confuses your senses and leaves you desperately trying to get a hold of yourself. 

Bucky moves behind you, letting his broad chest support your back while he sucks marks into the fragile skin of your neck. Steve exacts revenge on your nipples, giving them the same treatment you had given his. Bucky’s hands slide down from your waist to the insides of your thighs, moving them down then back up to the point where they touch. He squeezes them and pushes gently so that you widen your stance, giving him access to you entirely. Steve is still working your sensitive nipples over when Bucky runs a thick finger along your slit causing a cry to escape your lips. He toys at your entrance, letting your slick dampen two of his fingers before he slides them inside you. “God, you’re so tight.” Bucky rasps in your ear, “So perfect for us. We couldn’t be luckier getting to love on you like this.” 

It’s been a very long time, longer than you’re willing to admit, since you had been with a man and you’re gasping as he slides his fingers in and out of you. Steve slips a hand down, searching for your clit with those long skilled fingers of his. He finds it easily and flicks his thumb across it teasingly. “Do you have fucking sonar or something?!” you demand harshly. You had hoped for a minute or two of fumbling before you had to cope with the added attention there. The rumble of laughter surrounds you, coming from both of their chests while they fall into a punishing rhythm of Bucky fucking you with his fingers and Steve rubbing against your clit. It’s too much. They’re everywhere, clouding your senses until you’re trembling and sobbing for your release. 

You’re leaning against Bucky and clinging to Steve when you finally fall over the edge of your climax, reduced to sobbing, mewling sounds as you shake against their bodies. Bucky helps you lay down against him, supporting you in his arms while Steve lays down to rest partially on your heaving chest. You’re sandwiched between them and it’s heaven as you come back to your senses. 

“That was… whoa.” you mumble still a little scatter brained.

“Yeah it was.” Bucky agrees.

“You looked so beautiful coming apart for us like that.” Steve tells you, running a soothing hand along your belly. 

“You guys are incredible.” you praise them genuinely. “Good lord, what is sex gonna be like with you two?” you lament mostly to yourself. 

Bucky snorts, “Better.” he informs you. 

“Braggart.” Steve scolds him. 

“Hey, I can speak from personal experience that being fucked by you classifies as one of the great wonders of the world.” 

“Oh,” you murmur, your brain shorting out at the thought of Steve topping Bucky. You would give away every cent in your bank account to watch that happen. 

Two pairs of blue eyes turn to you, twin expressions of amusement on their faces. 

“You like that idea, darlin’?” Bucky asks.

“You wanna watch me and Buck?” Steve’s innocent tone does nothing to soften his words.

You nod, gulping, trying to compose yourself. “Yes, yes please.” 

“Next time.” Steve promises and Bucky moans softly at the thought. 

“We have all the time in the world.” Bucky assures him before snuggling in deeper into your neck. 

You know you don’t have all the time though. In two months you’ll be gone, but you’re going to do everything you can to make sure they’re happy and taken care of until that time comes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three of you settle into your new lives together as the inevitable draft day draws near.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! This chapter is super short and I’m sorry for that but I really couldn’t make it any longer if I’d tried. It’s a doozy though. Hang on to your hats darlings! XOXO - Ash

March is almost over when you finally find a place. It’s a cute little ground floor apartment over in Cobble Hill with big windows and a tiny patch of grass out back for a yard. Just right for the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. Steve dreams of sitting outside to paint and Bucky promises to grill your dinners all summer long. Your commute is longer now that you’re not in Brooklyn Heights but it’s manageable and you don’t mind since it means Bucky’s commute is shorter to the docks over in Red Hook. Steve gives up his job at the grocery store and takes a position at a nearby newspaper helping to draw copies of ads. The pay isn’t as good but he’s happier and between the three of you, you get by just fine. 

April comes and you want to enjoy the warmer weather and settling into your lives together, but Bucky has less than a month left before he’s drafted and you’re heartsick at the thought. You try not to let it get you down, pouring yourself into the little garden patch you’ve started out back instead. You’re tending to your tiny pea vines when Steve gets home with a slam of your screen door. 

You join him in the kitchen, worried when you see his glowering expression. “What’s wrong?” 

Steve slaps his hand down on the counter top, frustrated. “I’m never gonna join the army.” 

“Another 4F?” you guess, “You’re gonna break Bucky’s heart.” 

“Worse.” he grits out, taking another long drink of water from his glass. “They caught me this time. Had all of my files spread out on the Captain’s desk. I could have been arrested, they told me as much. The guy was nice but he doesn’t get it, he can’t. He told me this was my only warning. If I get caught again they’ll lock me up. Said he couldn’t blame me for trying but I needed to accept things for what they were.” 

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” you pull him into your arms, letting his anger burn off until the sadness pours from him like waves. You’re still holding him when Bucky comes in quietly behind you. You look up when you smell the familiar scent of saltwater that clings to him after a hard day’s work. He doesn’t ask, he just curls himself around Steve, holding on to comfort his partner. 

“I won’t try again, Buck.” Steve says, finally breaking the silence. “I love you and Rose too much to risk getting locked up. I’m sorry.” 

Bucky turns Steve around to face him, leaving you to rub his narrow shoulders. “Don’t you ever apologize for doing what you believe is right. That’s part of who you are, Stevie, and I love you. I’m glad you’re done trying but I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted.” 

Steve nods and holds onto Bucky tightly for a minute. 

“Why don’t you two go sit in the living room and I’ll run down the block to get us sandwiches for dinner?” you offer. 

“It was my night to cook.” Bucky frowns. 

“You have something more important to take care of tonight.” you shoot a meaningful glance at Steve and Bucky nods in agreement. “I’ll be back in a few.” 

That night you and Bucky are extra attentive to Steve, helping him work through the sadness and loss he’s dealing with. He tries to brush it off but you know he’s hurting. Giving up is something Steve Rogers never learned how to do and you can’t imagine the toll this is taking on him. You quietly hope that this set back doesn’t prevent him from meeting Erskine when the time comes but you have to have faith that it’ll happen the way it should.

After a few weeks in your new place, Bucky invites his parents and sisters down for Easter. He claims it’s because you and Steve have your heart set on hosting the first holiday in your new home. It’s really because Bucky wants you to meet his family and to show off your new place. You and Winifred Barnes hit it off from the second she walks through your door. You wish you could tell her how much you love her son, what an amazing partner he is to you and Steve. You settle for the friendship version of your affections, just as he and Steve have been doing their whole lives. It’s harder than you expected but you try and focus on being a good host and loving wife to Steve. You only have to slip away once to cry quietly in the bathroom, heartbroken for your boys who can’t live their lives out in the open. It makes you want to say timelines be damned and snatch the pair of them back into the future with you. 

The day of the draft is coming, quicker than any of you would like. Bucky had to re-register when you moved, putting his name back into the lottery you already know he’s going to win. He gets quieter in the days before the announcement, a little more withdrawn. He holds you and Steve tighter at night, tells you he loves you more frequently too. Steve worries by throwing himself into this art. He leaves sketches of you and Bucky all around the apartment for you to find and pack away in a hat box for safe keeping. 

The whole world seems on edge the closer draft day comes. Everyone has someone to worry over it seems. You kiss Bucky just a little longer that morning before he leaves for work. “It’ll be okay no matter what.” you promise him. “We’ll get through it together.” 

“At least I know you and Stevie have each other if I have to go.” he tells you quietly. Your heart aches knowing you won’t. Your jump point is shortly after when he’ll be reporting for basic. The three of you will be separated and all alone, the way history is meant for it to be. 

You can barely sit still at work waiting for the announcement over the radio. You have Bucky’s number written on a scrap of paper in your pocket. The girls in your pool are all worried about their husbands/ boyfriends/ brothers, and you sit huddled together praying when President Roosevelt’s voice comes over the radio. You can’t breathe when he starts calling out numbers, waiting for Bucky’s to be pulled. It’s for the best, it needs to happen, it already _has_ happened technically. And then it’s over. Clara two desks over is wailing, her brother’s number was called. You sit stone still, staring at the piece of paper in your hand that has a number that wasn’t called. 

You convince yourself you wrote it down wrong and fake sick to get sent home early. You race across the bustling city to get to Bucky, needing to comfort him and prove to yourself you did write it down wrong. Because Bucky Barnes was drafted into the US Army. He became a sergeant and was deployed to Azzano where he was taken by HYDRA and given a version of the serum. The same serum that Steve Rogers is given by Dr. Erskine to become Captain America. The history lessons fly through your mind like mantras as you hurry to get to the docks. 

Bucky is standing with a group of men when you find him, his face grim. Relief washes over you that the timeline is intact, followed by the ache that you’ll be losing him to a hard life that no one deserves. Bucky steps away from the group to pull you aside.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” you tell him, tears in your eyes.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“Your number… It was called. Right?”

“No, darlin’. I’m fine! You must’ve written it down wrong. I lucked out again.”

“But your face, you looked…”

“Tim got called, he’s a good man and a fine worker. I’m okay, Rose. I’m not going anywhere.” 

You’re at a loss for words and Bucky just holds you close, assuming you’re relieved and happy. You want to be happy, you want to go home and celebrate with Steve that your little family gets to stay together. But the world feels like an unfamiliar place now. You look around taking in the sights you know by heart but no longer connect with. It’s a strange new time you’re living in now. A world where Bucky Barnes doesn’t go off to war. Where he doesn’t get captured and almost die. Where he isn’t brainwashed and tortured for seventy years. Possibly where Captain America never exists. 

Oh god, what have you done.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the timeline is irrevocably altered Rose has to make a tough decision. Content Warning: smut, a good bit of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Well, we’re winding down now. Only one more chapter and the epilogue to go. Honestly this chapter is a bit of serious plot followed smut, like half the chapter is smut lol. So... enjoy! XOXO - Ash

You know there is no fixing what’s happened. The timeline is irrevocably changed now that Bucky made it through the draft. Your jump point is a month away, circled in red on the calendar hanging in your kitchen. You had spent so much time thinking of ways you could extract yourself from their lives but now the looming reality is, you don’t necessarily have to. You had forged a split in the timeline and this reality is going to keep going whether or not you’re a part of it. The pressing need to jump back to your time so as not to disrupt realities is no longer an issue, the damage is done. 

You’re quiet that night while the guys celebrate Bucky’s good luck. They dance around the living room to old records, trying to get you to join in on their fun. Steve puts on _La Vie En Rose_ , imploring you to dance with him to the sweet tune that initiated your first kiss. You relent, dancing around your tiny living room in his arms, Bucky watching from the sofa with soft eyes. It’s difficult to accept that this could be your life. There are so many pros and cons to staying and you had never really stopped to consider it as a real option. 

Later that night you lay awake in the darkness on your side of the bed. Steve is tangled up with Bucky like an octopus but you only have one ankle looped into their jumble. You stare up at the ceiling running through plans and calculations and options. It’s some time around 2am that you come to the conclusion that you don’t want to go back. A scary revelation for sure, but one a small part of you had suspected was coming for months now. 

The 1940s are problematic compared to your modern life but all the issues don’t overshadow your love for Steve and Bucky. You’ll have to be careful, hiding your relationship until well into your old age when polyamory becomes more acceptable. Steve and Bucky will have to hide their love until then too, unfortunately. You’ll have to put up with society considering you inferior just because you’re a woman. There won’t be a Starbucks latte back in your life until you’re too old to really enjoy one. You won’t have the luxury of a smartphone or a decent computer until you’re well into your eighties. It’s jarring to realize how much you had taken for granted when you were volunteering to go back. 

You look over at your guys, sighing quietly to yourself in the darkness. It’s still worth it. Every inconvenience, every struggle, it’s worth it to have them in your life. To get to see the soft little looks Bucky gives Steve when he’s overcome with love for him. To spend a quiet day listening to the scritching of charcoal on paper as Steve loses himself in another drawing. Getting to see the way the first rays of sunlight hit Steve’s golden mane of hair in the early morning. Hearing Bucky’s laugh, so loud and authentic, when something funny catches him off guard. The way they both will randomly scoop you up in their arms, peppering you with kisses and whispers of _I love you_. Staying with them is worth it all in spades. 

The next day you’re the first one up. You had caught a few hours sleep in the wee hours of the morning but they were restless ones. A pot of coffee brews on the stove, the smell alone helping to wake you up. You’re making pancakes for your guys, a special Saturday morning treat that you make sometimes when the mood strikes. There are fluffy stacks waiting on plates when Steve finally emerges from the bedroom looking adorably sleep rumpled. Bucky is only a few steps behind, yawning and stretching as he joins you. 

“Wow, I got lucky two days in a row now. I should put down money on a game or something.” Bucky teases, snatching up a plate for himself. 

“Actually these were a treat for Steve.” you say just to be smart. 

With a wicked smirk, Steve grabs the plate away from Bucky who scrabbles after it frantically, unwilling to lose his precious breakfast treat. 

You roll your eyes and give one of the other plates to Bucky, placing a kiss on top of his disheveled hair when he takes his seat at the table, “You’re lucky I love you both.” 

“And we know it.” he tells you before taking a bite of the hot syrup laden cakes. 

You spend a lazy weekend at home with the guys, quietly working through your plans to get word back to your team that you’re okay. Steve paints with watercolors and Bucky works on repairing the broken slats in your fence out back, both of them happily occupied while you plan. You’ve run through every scenario you can think of and it should work the way you intend it to. The jump point is designed to take you back to the lab and it’s timeline, but it may not necessarily need _you_. The brooch needs to be activated and then, after a short countdown, the brooch and whatever it’s attached to will blink back to the lab. You don’t know if it requires an actual living creature or if an inanimate object will do but you figure something with a pulse is a safer bet. Some poor little mouse or bunny is going to have the journey of a lifetime. The team will be displeased you messed up the timeline but hopefully they understand your reasons for staying. 

Plans set in your mind, all you have to do now is wait a few weeks until the jump point. The world seems to shift again now that things have been decided. You feel connected to the thrumming city around you again. The older man running the butcher shop seems kinder, the girl who works at the bakery could be a potential new friend. Possibilities are endless now that you have time. 

Dinner is a lively affair. All three of you are restless after a whole day of hanging around the house. Bucky cooks up the steaks you’d bought on your quick trip out and you toast the bread you’d gotten from the bakery in the oven with lots of butter and garlic. Steve mixes up a salad of vegetables from your kitchen basket and your garden, wanting to contribute to the meal. It’s a nice spread by the time you’re all done and you choose to eat outside on a blanket so you can watch the sunset. The weather is warming up finally and as long as you have a light sweater you’ll be okay to stay out for a bit even once the sun goes down. 

As expected, none of you want to go inside, even after nightfall. Stargazing in the city isn’t great due to the light pollution but you can still see some of the twinkling stars in the night sky. You’re lying between Steve and Bucky who are wrapped around you and holding hands across your middle. It’s sweet and you can see why Bucky loves being in the center of the bed. The guys are up to something, you can tell when they start to stroke along each other’s hands and wrists with slow, fluid motions. Soon they’re littering kisses on your shoulders and nuzzling in closer. 

“You see that pretty little constellation there?” Bucky says pointing at the night sky, “The one to the right of the moon?” 

“Cassiopeia?” you ask him, zig zagging your finger along its shape.

“Our girl is smart, Steve.” Bucky praises, “Yeah, darlin’, cassiopeia. Did you know you have almost the exact same pattern in freckles on the back of your right thigh?”

“I do not.” you snort.

“You do,” Steve chimes in, adding in a low tone, “I would be happy to show you if you’d like to move this inside.” 

You roll your eyes at his antics but shrug, “I think that can be arranged.” 

Bucky is standing before you can even fully sit up, he scoops you up into his arms and you let out a very unladylike squeal. Steve is shushing you, grinning as if he approves of Bucky’s ridiculous show of bravado. You’re glad you ran the dishes in earlier but the cups and blankets will have to wait until morning. All three of you have other things in mind.

Bucky carries you all the way to your bedroom, depositing you on the enormous bed with a playful flop. Bouncing on the mattress elicits another squeak from you and Bucky chuckles at the sound. Crawling over your body like a lion going in for the kill, Bucky starts unbuttoning the long trail of opalescent buttons on the front of your dress. He only gets down to your waist before he showers your breasts with kisses, mouthing over the slippery satin of your brassiere until your breaths are coming in harsh gasps. You roll your head to the side, eyes fluttering open for a minute and you catch sight of Steve. And what a sight it is. Steve is leaning up against the door frame, still fully clothed, palming himself over his trousers. His cheeks are stained a deep pink, pupils blown wide with lust. “Stevie.” you gasp out his name like a prayer.

Bucky lifts his head at your voice and looks back catching sight of Steve himself. “Gonna join us?” he asks, pulling back from you to extend a hand.

Steve gives him a lazy, smug smile before coming over to take his hand. Bucky pulls him in quickly, Steve slamming against his chest roughly. Bucky’s mouth is demanding, possessive, and Steve can’t get enough. You lay back, content to watch them have their moment. Fumbling with your buttons you get them all undone and push the sides away, leaving you bare except for your bra and panties. Your guys are taking their time loving on one another above you so you take the opportunity to slip a hand down between your folds. If you’re going to have a front row seat, you might as well enjoy the show. 

A breathless _unf_ slips past your lips; you got yourself closer to the edge much faster than you’d expected. Both pairs of blue eyes snap down to look at you and your hand stills beneath your panties. “Hi” you say sheepishly. 

“Whatcha doin’ doll?” Steve asks with a smirk.

“Enjoying the show.” 

“If you’re enjoying it so much maybe you should join in.” Steve leans down to trail kisses from your throat down to the lacy edge of your panties. Bucky is kissing lines along Steve’s back and you don’t know which is working you up more, Steve’s mouth on your skin or Bucky’s on his.

“You like watching us?” Bucky taunts, having caught on to your not so subtle staring.

You nod, “Yeah. So much.”

“What if, instead of taking turns, tonight we can all enjoy ourselves together?” 

Steve’s whole body shudders at the suggestion but you’re unsure of the logistics.

“How? I mean, yes. But, how?”

“Well, you can stay right there and let Stevie fill up that perfect little pussy of yours, and while he’s busy doing that I’ll be busy filling _him_ up.” 

Steve whimpers and you moan. Bucky knew his suggestion would be a hit but he loves hearing your reactions. You nod frantically, helping Steve get your clothes off while Bucky undresses himself and starts tugging at Steve’s shirt. “Stevie,” Bucky coos after he gets all three of you bare, “Why don’t you go down on our girl while I get you ready?” 

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice, sliding quickly down your body to oblige Bucky’s request. You lean up a little on your elbows, wanting to watch. Bucky is so careful with Steve, slowly pressing a vaseline coated finger into his hole until Steve gasps against your throbbing clit. Bucky is babbling a stream of praise as he adds another finger, slowly working Steve open. Steve has to pause, resting his head against you, hips thrust involuntarily, when Bucky grazes his prostate with two curled fingers. “Buck, enough. I wanna feel it. Enough.” Steve pants out, desperate. 

“You good, darlin’?” Bucky asks you, making sure you don’t need more time yourself. 

“Mhmm” you moan in assent. 

Steve moves up from between your legs, holding onto your hips with a loving squeeze as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in slowly as always, letting you get used to the size of him before burying himself fully inside you. Steve stills and you see Bucky running a hand along his back, giving Steve a moment before he breaches the tight ring of muscles and drives himself home. Steve is shaking, breaths coming in pants, and he’s gripping your hips so tightly you’re certain you’ll have bruises in the morning. You’re not sure who starts moving first but after a moment the three of you fall into a rhythm, gradually increasing your pace until it’s frenzied and desperate. Steve reaches a hand down to toy with your already too sensitive clit and you fall off the edge of your orgasm. Steve curses, knowing he should have expected the chain reaction he just set off. Between Bucky hitting his prostate with every thrust and your inner walls squeezing around his cock while you come beneath him, it’s all just too much. Steve comes with a shout, harder than he has ever before in his life, and thinks he may actually black out for a breathless moment. Bucky, driven to his own edge watching you fall apart for Steve, is lost when Steve’s muscles clamp down around him while he comes. Bucky gets a few more stuttering thrusts before he’s spilling deep in Steve who shudders a few more futile thrusts in you at the sensation. You’re breathing heavily under the pile of your guys, amazed and blissed out beyond words. 

Bucky is laying delicately on Steve who is laying not delicately on top of you. He’s so light though, it doesn’t bother you and you wrap your arms around him when he starts to roll off to the side when Bucky finally lets him go. All three of you need cleaned up but no one’s brains are working quite yet and instead you lay in your tangle, idly stroking whatever limbs are closest and enjoying the quiet post orgasmic bliss. 

A little while later Steve nudges your chin with his, getting you to look him in the eye. “That was okay, right?”

You give him a reassuring smile, “More than alright.” 

He lets out a relieved breath at your words. “Good. Great. I love being with you, I really do. But Buck and I… we go way back and I still need him too sometimes.” 

“Sweetheart, I didn’t expect you and Bucky to stop having sex just because we started. You two should still enjoy each other whenever you want, whether it includes me or not. I’m sure there will be times when it’s just you and me or just Bucky and me. That needs to be okay too.” 

“You really are one in a million.” Steve says, his voice soft with something akin to wonder. He snuggles closer, wrapping you so tight you can scarcely breathe. Bucky huffs seeing Steve enveloping you and dives on top of you both so as not be left out. Between the squirming and laughter somehow you get comfortable and a shower is put off again until cooler heads can prevail.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that you’ve made up your mind to stay, you can finally start planning out your future with the guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! This is it, the last chapter! I feel like it’s gone so fast but here we are. The epilogue will be going up next so stay tuned. XOXO - Ash

Now that you’ve made up your mind to stay, your job in the typing pool seems just a little more mundane. It was fine for the interim while you were just biding time before going back, but now you can’t possibly see yourself doing this for the next forty years. The only problem is, you don’t have your degree in this time and you most likely won’t be able to get a job in a lab even if you did. Money isn’t a problem compliments of your supposed Sparrow status with the SSR but you don’t want to live off of that forever. You want to do something, anything, to keep busy. You’re daydreaming, walking the quiet early morning streets of Brooklyn when it comes to you. Or rather, you come to it.

Science was your first love and always would be, but your second love was books. When you stumble across the public library you can’t help but go inside. Public libraries are the same no matter what decade you’re in. The long, tall rows of books, the musty scent of paper thick in the air, children and adults alike lost in their reading. It’s comforting and reminds you of your childhood. You approach the harried looking girl at the main desk with a smile. “Excuse me. Hi. I’d like to get a library card, please.” you tell her.

The girl looks up through thick rimmed glasses with a smile of her own. “Sure, I just need you to fill out this slip and I’ll get you set up.” she hands you a three by five card for your name and address and you scrawl your information down for her. It dawns on you that you’ll never get to use your real name again. You’ll forever be Rose Rogers now and while there’s a small pang of loss for your old name, you could do a lot worse than being Mrs. Rogers. Handing your card back to the girl she files it quickly into the rolodex that houses everyone’s information. You stifle your laugh at how archaic it seems compared to the ease of saving information on a computer. 

The girl hands you a card with your name filled out on it and yawns loudly before she can get out a tired, “Here you go.”

“Long day?” you ask sympathetically. 

“The longest. Doreen had her baby and now she’s not coming back so we’re all working doubles trying to pick up the slack. We don’t even have anyone for the children's story time tomorrow now. It’s a mess.” 

“Are you looking to replace her? I used to volunteer at the library in school so I’m familiar with the Dewey Decimal System. I moved here not too long ago and I’m looking for work.” 

“Really? That would be amazing. Can you come back tomorrow to meet with Mr. Cooper? He runs the place and will be the one who has final say, but if you know what the Dewey Decimal is I’m sure he’ll take you. Most girls coming in take forever to train.” 

“Sure, what time?”

The girl, whose name you learn is Lorna, checks the calendar in the back and then gives you a time frame to stop by in. She promises to give her boss a heads up that you’re coming in so hopefully he’s expecting you. Lorna jokes that she’ll put in a good word for you too since you seem a heck of a lot nicer than Doreen ever was.

You want to tell the guys about your potential new job but also don’t want to jinx anything. Your supervisor at the SSR is kind and lets you take an early lunch for a “doctor’s appointment” so that you can run across town to meet Mr. Cooper at the library. After you explain your experience, you really did volunteer at your high school’s library, he hires you on the spot, offering for you to start the following week. You feel guilty going back to the office to put in your notice and wonder if this means the bank account you were given will be retracted when you quit. There’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach when you wonder if your new job will pay enough to keep you afloat the way you have been. It’ll be tighter for sure but you do the math quickly in your head and think it should all work out. 

You pop into Agent Wilson’s office when you get back to the office, wanting to rip the band-aid off rather than worrying about what if’s. 

“Rose, good to see you again.” Wilson stands to greet you as you step into his office.

“You as well, Agent Wilson.” you reply shaking his hand.

“And to what do I owe this visit? Is the reception pool treating you well?”

“Very well sir, thank you. But about that actually. I’ve found another job that’s more aligned with my career goals. I’ve been given the opportunity to be a librarian and it’s closer to where my husband and I moved. I know I was set up here due to my… _status_ , but I’ll be staying in Brooklyn and would like to set up a real life here. I understand if you’ll need the funds back from the account I was given and I have a personal check here so you can access and close the account. I haven’t used all that much so far.” 

“Rose, Rose, slow down a minute. The SSR takes care of its assets even when they choose to leave the life. You were never obligated to stay here after declaring Sparrow protocol. The account is yours, we cut ties to the funds as soon as identities are handed out, we have no desire to take that security from you. I’m happy for you, that you’ve made a life here. Most girls don’t re-acclimate as easily and it’s a blessing when they do. I hope you’ll stop by from time to time to say hello.” 

“I will, thank you sir. Truly, thank you.” 

“It’s no trouble at all. Just let Marge know you’re moving on, she’ll understand. And take care of yourself.”

“Thank you, you too.” You shake Agent Wilson’s hand once again and head out into the more brightly lit main office. 

Marge and the girls are sad to see you go and you offer to stay on until the end of the week so as not to leave them in the lurch. Marge insists you’re free to go whenever but the girls plan a goodbye party for you for Friday. 

Steve is home when you get back, Bucky will be along in another hour but you can’t wait to share your good news. Steve is over the moon for you, though he does admit he wishes you had told them you weren’t happy in the typing pool. They would have encouraged you to find something new sooner like you and Bucky had done for him when he took the job at the paper. Never one to miss an opportunity to celebrate, Steve goes down the block under the guise of getting a loaf of bread to go with dinner. He comes back with bread and glossy chocolate cake, _Congratulations_ written in cursive on top in bright white lettering. You’re kissing Steve and giggling when Bucky finally comes home, tired and worn out from his day. 

“What’s all this then?” he asks, setting his coat on the hook by the door. 

“Our girl has some really great news, Buck.” Steve tells him, a hand still around your waist.

You hold the cake up to show him the writing on top with a smile. 

Bucky’s face crumples, shock and hope and awe flickering across it as he crosses the room to the two of you. You can’t figure out what has him so moved until he presses his rough palms against your belly. “Rose?” he croaks through a tight throat.

“Oh!” you gasp, realizing what he was thinking. “No, no, not that. I’m sorry for scaring you. We probably should have been clear right off the bat. I got a new job. I’m going to be a librarian starting next week.” 

The light in Bucky’s eyes dims for a second before he can rally himself to be excited for you. “That’s wonderful, darlin’. I’m so proud of you. I always thought you were too smart to be sitting around in a typing pool anyway.” 

“Thanks, baby. Dinner is almost ready, why don’t you go wash up?” 

Bucky gives you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes and heads off to the bedroom to change. 

You look to Steve who looks as thrown off as you are. “He’ll be okay.” Steve assures you, giving you a quick hug, “Let’s go finish up.” he takes your hand and leads you back to the kitchen where you fall back into an easy rhythm preparing dinner for the three of you. 

The celebratory air of dinner is somehow dimmed by Bucky’s reaction to your news. You had never really put much thought into a family of your own. It makes sense that Bucky would want one, he came from a large, loving family after all. And in this era, men are taught to aspire to having a wife and family of their own. Your birth control shot was up to date when you left but it should have run out a month or two ago. Now that you’re thinking about it, it’s sheer luck that you aren’t pregnant by now and you make a mental note to be more careful going forward. You can’t exactly get a Depo booster in the ‘40s and the birth control pill won’t even be invented for another eight years. You’ll just have to time your cycle and be careful going forward. Unless. Unless you don’t want to be. Images of a little boy with floppy blonde hair and bright blue eyes comes to mind, followed by a little girl with chestnut curls and wide grey-blue eyes. You could have that, if you wanted. If they wanted. You’d never thought to ask until now, and now that you have, the questions are burning bright in your chest. 

The three of you are sitting in the living room when you finally can’t stand it anymore. “We need to talk about this.” you announce, setting down your book. Steve looks up from his sketch pad, startled.

“I’m sorry, darlin’.” Bucky sighs setting aside his crossword puzzle. “It was your big night and I’ve ruined it by bein’ dumb.” 

“You’ve done no such thing.” you scold him lightly, “But your face when you thought. Well. When you thought I was pregnant. Baby, is that something you want? Because if it is, we have to talk about this.” 

“It’s not right for me to ask you to-”

“James Buchanan Barnes.” you cut him off, “We are all adults here. You are not asking me for a damn thing. We need to be able to talk about what we want, all of us. That includes you, Steve. If we all want the same thing then great, if we don’t then we need to talk it out and come to an agreement. Now, let’s start over. Bucky, do you want to have a baby with me?”

Bucky’s jaw drops, stunned by your outburst and the frankness of which you’re talking about things. “God,” he sighs, raking a hand through his hair, “Of course I do. The idea of seeing you all full up with a baby, our baby. It kills me, darlin’. I’d have as many little chubby babies runnin’ around here as we could stand. Maybe a few little bratty blonde ones too.” he gives Steve a smirk and Steve visibly pales.

“Stevie, honey, what’s wrong?” you ask, worried.

“No, I can’t. I won’t. You know how often I get sick and how bad it can get. Believe it or not, it was worse when I was a kid. I was on death’s door more times than I can count. Nothing about my body has ever worked the way it should, why would I want to put some poor kid through all that too? Of course I want a little baby with your eyes and my smile, but what kind of life am I setting it up for when it’s half me? I couldn’t bear it.” 

“Stevie, no.” Bucky croaks, rushing over to him and lifting him off of his chair. Bucky slides into his seat, pulling Steve onto his lap so he can hold him tightly, tears shining bright in his eyes. “You would be the most amazing papa to any kid. And our girl is strong, who says your kids would have even one of the problems you had? They might be all her and only get your sass. We can’t know for sure.” 

“He’s right.” you chime in, “We wouldn’t know for sure if a baby of ours would have your health issues. And even if they did, medicine is getting better every day. They wouldn’t necessarily have such a rough time even if they did have issues. Be honest, honey. Do you want a baby with me?”

Steve thinks for a long moment, giving into the warmth radiating from Bucky. “I don’t think I need it to be my own. I want a baby with you, but if it’s Bucky’s I’d be just as happy if it were my own. And then we wouldn’t have to worry about it being sick like me.” 

“You’re always so worried about us, what about you?” Bucky asks you. 

“I never really thought I’d have a family but I think I want one now, with you two. Not saying right now. I’d like to hold off a little while so we can enjoy it just being the three of us for a bit, but someday. Yeah. It might be nice to have a few little kids running around.” 

“Let’s give it a year.” Steve suggests, “We’ll take the time to get you settled at your new job and start saving up. Maybe take a vacation too while it’s just us. Then next year we can decide if we want to try or hold off. I’ll go with you to the doctor’s if you want one of those diaphragms. Or me and Buck could start buying rubbers. Whatever you want. We probably should’a thought of this sooner.” 

“It’s okay, I wasn’t thinking about it either. Condoms are easier and I can track things so we’d only have to use them when I’m fertile.” 

“Whatever you want, doll.” Steve assures you, getting up from his spot on Bucky’s lap and joining you on the sofa to pull you in for a long hug.

“All I want is you. Both of you.” you whisper against his neck. 

Bucky is silent as a ghost as he slips in on your other side so you’re sandwiched between your guys. You can’t help but be relieved that the conversation was easier than you expected. It’s hard to believe Steve is so fearful of his DNA being passed along but it makes sense after everything he’s battled in his life. Maybe someday he’ll change his mind but you’re not going to push him. 

Leaving the girls at the typing pool is bittersweet. You exchange addresses and phone numbers so you can stay in touch and promise to host a girl’s night as soon as you can. You’re surprised to realize that you really had made a few good friends at the SSR and that you’ll miss the community of your little group. 

Your first day of work at the library proves to be easier than you expected. A grey haired woman named Agnes gives you a tour before training you on the rolodex and their filing system. It’s more complicated than scanning things into a computerized system but at least it’s easy to understand. Checking in and out books takes a few minutes of finding people’s cards and logging their books, stamping each with a due date before handing them back. No one seems to mind though, happily chatting with you while you log their books. Agnes explains that Doreen, who apparently no one will miss, used to lead the children’s story time on Monday mornings. Agnes claims her arthritis acts up making it hard to hold the books up for too long so you’re given the task going forward. You can’t really complain, the children are eager and sweet, cheering when you do funny voices and build suspense. 

By the end of the day you’re already planning improvements for the library. You’ve caught on quickly and couldn’t help but notice a few improvements that would help. You worry about rocking the boat, being so new, but Agnes encourages you to have at it. She claims they haven’t changed a thing since Grover Cleveland was in office. You spend your first week making small adjustments to make everyone’s lives easier. It’s not too much, just rearranging the main desk a little, decorating the children’s area to make it more cheery, setting out books to feature on the end caps of isles to draw people in. 

Your second week you decide to start deep cleaning. There’s always two of you there at the same time and the other women, most of them closer to Agnes’ age than yours, are content to sit behind the desk all day while you put books back and tidy up. You run around one Tuesday afternoon with a duster, going over every surface in the whole library. The next morning you attack the tall windows with newspapers and ammonia. You pick up a bottle of Murphy’s oil at the corner drug store and spend two days rubbing down every bit of wood in the place. By the end of that week you’re exhausted but happy and the library has never looked better. The other girls are still chattering the next week about much better it looks and how even the patrons are commenting. Mr. Cooper is apparently fretting that you’re too good for them and won’t last long there. You assure them you’re happy and plan on being there for the long haul. 

Steve and Bucky both notice a difference in you when you come home tired and sweaty at night. Bucky jokes they could use you down at the docks with how hard you work. They both comment on how much happier you seem and you agree with them. Working with books is much more fulfilling than typing all day. You want to expand their children’s program to twice a week, story time on Mondays and a craft time on Thursdays. You spend your free time at work putting together a plan to present to Mr. Cooper for permission. The library as it is now is nice, but it could be so much more. You want it to be a haven for the community, the way yours was growing up. You could coordinate study nights with the local schools and host literacy nights for adults who never had a chance to learn. Bucky and Steve listen as you ramble about the plans you have and exchange knowing smiles. You’re happier now than they’ve ever seen you and it seems your career change was exactly what you needed to really thrive. And you are thriving now, shockingly more than you think you ever did in modern times. You’ve found your place back time with your guys and your community. 

By the time your jump point comes it’s easier than you expected to write the letter to your team. You tell them you’ve found happiness, a new career, and a love that triumphs all. You apologize for disrupting the timeline and explain that you’re certain there’s not steering it back on course. The slight over shooting of the jump date and your suggestions on what adjustments are needed to make the calibrations more precise are included as well. You make a list of everything you think might be useful for the research and let them know where the rest of your notes are kept in your desk. You don’t know what will be helpful to them and if they can’t have you, they can at least have your notes. You whip up a batch of brownies for the typing pool girls, an easy ploy to gain access to the inside of the SSR office so you can get downstairs in time. It’s with a guilty conscience that you chase a mouse around the trash bin out back, needing something to put the note and brooch on. You fashion the poor little field mouse a bow out of one of your ribbons, clipping the brooch to the back and the folded up letter as well. Thankfully the poor thing is too frightened to put up much of a fight and you stash the little guy in your pocketbook. 

The girls at the typing pool are thrilled to see you when you show up with the pan of brownies. The container is quickly emptied and you beg off to go wash it and say hello to one of the receptionists before leaving. You have six minutes to get set up. Quietly as you can, you slip down to the basement, setting up your jump point and counting down softly to the poor little mouse who’s trembling in your hand. You adjust it’s bow, note, and brooch one last time before sitting it down and activating the transport. The gemstone on the brooch flashes, once, twice, and a third time, the mouse holding blessedly still out of fright. You’re scarcely able to breathe until the white glow starts up and in a bright flash the mouse is gone. A few tears slip out despite yourself, silently wishing the little mouse well in the 21st century. You hope your team carries on their work and goes on to do even more great things. A part of you will always miss them but you know you’re where you’re meant to be. 

You wipe your eyes, sniffling back the rest of your tears, and head back upstairs to say goodbye to the girls before you have to get to work across town at the library. It’s craft day for the kids and you’re going to be teaching them how to make hand print flowers. The craft is certain to be messy, creative, and loads of fun. 

The bright early summer sun blinds you as you step outside onto the bustling city sidewalk and it hits you. This is your life now. There is no last chance to take it back anymore. You are permanently living in this time with your guys, and your job, and your new friends. You take a deep breath of balmy city air and know you wouldn’t want it any other way.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snippet into Rose, Steve, and Bucky’s lives post One In A Million.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again lovelies! I hope you all enjoyed the fic and this last little peek into the lives our main characters. Thank you so very much to everyone who has stuck around with this fic! Your comments and kudos make me happy scream. XOXO - Ash

**10 Years Later**

“Georgie, sweetheart can you please get your sister?” You call across the backyard, balancing your squirming toddler on your hip. It’s hard to believe Sarah is two already, she’s so tiny and still prefers to go about the world on your hip rather than on her own two feet. You ruffle her bright blonde hair and pass her off to her papa who takes her with a giant twirl making the little girl scream in delight. “Careful, papa.” you tease Bucky giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as you go to collect your other two children.

George is trying to convince his little sister to give up her tiny shovel so she can come inside and get cleaned up for lunch. He’s looking more and more like his father every day, his curling brown hair and stocky build unmistakable even though he’s only eight. Thankfully in these times everyone is too polite to point it out and no one questions you when you say he’s the spitting image of your father’s side of the family. He’s not. The only thing he got from you is your eye color, the rest is one hundred percent Bucky. 

“It’s okay, you can go ahead, I’ll get Annie. Make sure you wash your hands and then go let daddy know lunch is ready. Okay?” 

“Yes mama.” your little boy nods, serious about his task in a way that reminds you of Steve. It’s funny how biology or not, all three of you have shaped these children into who they are. 

“Annie girl.” you call in a sing song voice to your daughter. She’s digging at the edge of your garden with the single minded focus of a five year old on a mission. Her curly brown hair is streaked with dirt where she must have kept pushing it back. Much to the guys delight, she’s the spitting image of you. Only getting her hair and eye color from Bucky. 

“Ma-ma.” She mimics your tone. 

You laugh, sitting down next to her in the grass. “What are you working on?”

“I’m digging a new house for Mr. Worm. Georgie pulled him up and I’m putting him back.” 

Only your sweet girl would be worried about a house for an earthworm. “I think you did a great job! It looks very nice for such a small worm. Why don’t we put him in and then go get ready for lunch. Papa is already in the kitchen with Sarah and we don’t want him to eat all the cookies I baked before we get there.” 

Annie’s eyes widen and she flings her worm-friend into the hole, shoving the dirt on top as fast as she can. “Bye Mr. Worm!” she yells, “Come on mama, cookies!” 

You pull yourself up to chase your daughter into the house where your guys are busy putting food on the table and herding your other two into their seats. The kitchen of your old brownstone is twice the size of the one you’d had in your apartment and you’re thankful for the extra space with six of you milling around the space. Annie washes her hands with a quick assist from Steve who turns the water from cold to warm for her. Bucky finally got Sarah in her chair with a carrot in hand to keep her occupied while he dishes out the sandwiches you’d made. 

Steve stops by Sarah’s chair to kiss the top of her head, “Sarah-bear.” he calls her fondly. Sarah screeches “Dadeeeee” when he does, reaching up for him but he adjusts her in her seat and reminds her it’s time for lunch. 

It’s noisy chaos; your guys tending to your three amazing children who are so full of excitement to talk about their day so far. You barely dodge in time as George rushes past, almost knocking the pitcher of tea from your hands. Steve and Bucky call out his name at the same time and he blushes brightly apologizing to you and his fathers. It hasn’t always been the perfect life, it’s exhausting at times, but after a decade you know more than ever; you wouldn’t trade it for the world.


End file.
